Through a Glass, Darkly
by Moody Peach
Summary: [New Moon AU] Bella took a hard fall and awoke a week later as a newborn vampire with no memory of her former self — and she is far from alone. When she is found years later by a vampire coven who claim to love her, she must find a way to navigate her fractured memories and discover who she truly was and who she has become.
1. Prologue

" _I lose two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,  
_ _Some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.  
_ _I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster."  
_

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

.

.

.

.

.

As I gaze at the dark waves crashing against the cliffside—ocean mist caresses my face with gentle kisses—I can't help but recall a discussion at school that took place several weeks prior. We had gathered in the gymnasium, the foul stench of sweat spilling into the wide expanse of open space; ahead of me Jessica and Lauren were giggling while eyeballing an ever oblivious Mike Newton. After we had all settled onto the floor, legs crossed and shoulders slouched, the school's counsellors had promptly entered into a morbid yet dull conversation about depression, suicide, and self-harm.

"Why do people cut themselves?" a freshman girl seated beside me had abruptly asked, her high-pitched voice carrying across the room.

"They're, ah, trying to distract themselves from the pain they feel on the _inside_ ," Mrs. Goldstein had responded, her face flushed red. Clearly she hadn't expected _inquires_ on the nature of mental illness. "When somebody is hurting on the inside, they may try to hurt themselves on the outside to make the internal pain go away. Temporarily, at least."

And now, while I prepare to step forward into the icy stretch of ocean, I can't help but reflect inward about the subject of self-inflicted pain.

.

.

.

.

.

For what seems like hours I refuse to move. My eyes remain trained on the waves and their rhythmic dance against the rocky terrain.

 _Just jump, you idiot. It'll be… fun._

Fun? Doubtful.

However, I can feel my heartbeat _everywhere_ ; it rumbles in my ears and bobs in my throat and sends ripples of heat vibrating through my veins. I clench and unclench my fists as the adrenaline spreads like wildfire throughout my body.

 _Jump! Jacob said it's fun!_

God, I miss Jacob. Why has he abandoned me?

"Isabella Swan," a soft voice whispers.

I whip around in a second, nearly losing my footing in the process. Behind me the trees are still and the forest is quiet, and yet the hairs on the back of my arm rise.

"Don't be afraid," the voice sneers, and suddenly a woman stands in front of me. Her fiery orange curls and ruby red eyes are enough to jog my memories.

Feeling as if I cannot breathe, I struggle with my words. "You're… Victoria."

"Yes." She tilts her head and smiles thinly at me. The expression on her face reminds of me of a cat as its toys with its food; the playfulness of its movements and the wild look in its eyes. "I've been meaning to find you."

 _Get out of there. Now._

Edward's voice is harsh and loud in my head.

"Why?" I swallow hard, and Victoria giggles. It's a surprisingly terrifying sound coming from such a dainty, soft-looking woman.

 _She's a vampire. She's dangerous. You need to run._

"I need something," she replies in a matter-of-fact tone. Gently she rests her hand on my shoulder and I flinch from her touch, but I do not move an inch. In fact, I cannot move. One step backward and I'll tumble dangerously into the water. "You're going to give it to me."

"W-What do you mean?"

If I try to jump, she may break my shoulder. And even if I manage to break loose from her grasp, she'll be a superior swimmer. Would she drown me? And that's if I survive the fall; I may strike the cliffside if I jump without looking or angling myself.

She opens her mouth to reply but quickly purses her lips, and in a fraction of a second I'm suddenly encased in her iron grip. Now entirely facing the forest, her left arm coiled around my stomach and waist and her right hand curled around my neck, I stare in wide-eyed terror as a large, frightening wolf emerges from the row of trees.

The wolf is ebony black and easily bigger than a horse. Its eyes, which are as gold as a full moon, stare furiously in my direction.

Soon more wolves emerge, their teeth glittering with thick saliva as they snarl and gaze upon me and Victoria. Sheer terror seizes me as the small light of hope within me dwindles and burns out. Even if I escape from Victoria, who's to say I won't end up as dog food?

"Stay back," Victoria hisses through clenched teeth, and I feel her index finger press against my throat. "Or I'll rip her head off."

Before I can process why she's speaking to these gigantic creatures, one of the wolves—with a dark reddish-brown coat—takes two bold steps forward, its growl penetrating the air and rising above its pack's growls.

"Wrong move," Victoria whispers, and suddenly air rushes against me. I try to scream, but instead darkness closes around me and I am no more.

* * *

Note: I do not own the Twilight series.


	2. The Hunt

**TWO YEARS LATER**

"He'll be angry," Jasper warns, his right arm wrapped around Alice's waist as they stroll through the airport. A leather duffle bag is slung casually over his shoulder. The airport is fairly deserted considering the time of the year, much to Jasper's relief. The anxiety he feels concerning their impromptu trip has exerted his thirst.

Alice rolls her eyes. "He's always angry. Besides, I can see his resolve wavering every day. He wants to see her too."

"What if she's attending college elsewhere?" Jasper brushes his thumb across her hip and she smiles coyly at him. He plants a small kiss on her cheek before asking, "Did you call Charlie?"

"Nobody will answer the damn phone. And if she's at college, Charlie will tell us." They nearly bump into a distracted middle-aged woman, and Alice quickly cautions herself and her husband around her as she frantically fumbles with her phone. "I want to be _surprised_."

"For once."

Alice sticks her tongue out at him and he chuckles.

"If we find her there, we'll tell Carlisle and he can inform Edward," Alice continues as they exit the airport through automatic doors. Ahead at the pick-up area, a balding man holding a sign reading "J. Whitlock" stands patiently in front of a black Toyota Corolla. "That will definitely motivate him to get his act together."

"He's a Shakespearean tragedy come to life," Jasper agrees, nodding formally at their chauffeur and gesturing politely for him to return to the driver's seat. The man smiles and quickly ducks into the car. After loading the duffle bag into the open trunk, Jasper finds himself hesitant to close it. Alice cocks her head quizzically.

He gathers his thoughts, and then quietly asks, "Should we disrupt her life, Alice? What if she has moved on?"

Alice sighs. "I know, Jazz, but… She definitely hasn't forgotten us, and I will _never_ forget her. It wasn't fair to not say goodbye. It wasn't. I want to see her. So does Edward. He just needs a little motivation."

Jasper takes a moment to contemplate his wife's words before closing the trunk and guiding her into the back seat beside him.

As they begin their three-hour drive to Forks, Washington, they stare in silence ahead of them, never once taking a glimpse outside the window. Jasper feels their chauffeur is unnerved by their presence—in fact he's fearful—but can't be bothered to quell his nervousness. Alice is as still as a statue, and he knows by her blank expression that she is searching into the future. Not for Bella, no; he believes her when she claims to want to "surprise" herself.

Alice is seeking _Edward_ , as she always has since he fled to South America two years prior. He had visited once six months ago. His emotionless eyes had saddened Esme and concerned Carlisle. Rosalie had avoided him after they engaged in a terse conversation. He and Emmett had went hunting, and upon return Emmett had merely shaken his head at Esme's questioning look.

"How was he?" Carlisle had finally asked Emmett the next night when Edward had taken off. There were no goodbyes and he didn't elaborate on where he was going. Alice had simply said, "To be alone."

"Quiet. He took down a deer and just… stared at it… Like he had never hunted down an animal before. It was creepy."

But Alice had been strangely optimistic since Edward's brief visit. Three weeks ago she had gleefully told Jasper that Edward had—albeit briefly—made a decision to renter Forks.

"I saw him heading down the highway that leads into town," Alice had beamed while perched on Jasper's lap on the living room sofa. They both ignored Rosalie when she retreated from the house and slammed the front door shut; the wood near the handle cracked. "He was _smiling_."

But now as they head into the unknown, Jasper can't temper the dread blossoming in his stone heart. Questions plague him and the night of Bella's eighteenth birthday plays in his head like a broken record. Her blood had practically sparkled against her pale white skin.

 _If she doesn't forgive me_ … Sorrow overtakes him. _It's my fault._

Alice places her hand on his thigh, and although she does not look at him it is enough to calm his demons.

.

.

.

.

.

"I missed it here," Alice says, peeling off a sheet covering the piano—Edward's piano.

"Forks was one of our better homes," Jasper agrees, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes surveying their family's previous manor. Sunlight shimmers through the tall, wide windows, illuminating the thick layer of dust coating the furniture and floors.

Alice lightly presses a piano key, and the high-pitched sound cuts through the haunting silence that hangs in the air.

"Shall we head to Charlie's in the evening?"

Alice attempts to respond, but she and Jasper are suddenly consumed by an overwhelming stench carrying on the wind and into their house. Jasper, scowling, rushes to the front door; Alice is sharp on his heels.

"Wolves," he murmurs, his fingers lacing through hers.

"Jasper, it's just the Quileute pack," Alice whispers, trying to assuage her husband's worries. "They're probably wondering what we're doing back."

"I thought we agreed not to bother each other. And since when has their pack been so large?" He can count approximately four wolves, perhaps more pounding across the grassy terrain toward them.

Alice rolls her shoulders into a shrug. "Maybe a natural balance? Enough wolves to combat the vampires that popped up in the area?"

"I don't…" Before he can finish his sentence, the wolves suddenly break through the trees. Their nostrils flare and thick saliva covers their teeth. A ripple of snarls pierce the air.

"Jazz," Alice warns, rubbing his arm. "Calm down."

" _They're_ the ones being threatening," he counters. His shoulders are erect, his spine straight as an arrow. "Damn dogs."

"We're just visiting," Alice calls, taking a small step forward; Jasper follows while keeping a part of his body in front of his wife. _Endearing_ , she thinks. _But definitely not what we want right now._ "We won't stay long. We wanted to visit Bella Swan."

Immediately the growls and snarls still, and all the wolves crane their necks to stare at their pack leader—a black wolf that is stunning in its sheer size. They gaze at each other, seemingly communicating telepathically, before the alpha suddenly lurches forward while remaining firmly planted to the ground.

"He's transforming," Jasper whispers, both marveled and annoyed by the sight of it.

"Or she," Alice remarks, nudging her husband's side.

Suddenly a young man stands before them, nude and muscular. Neither Alice nor Jasper react to his bare skin.

"You're _visiting_ Bella Swan?" the boy speaks, his voice deep and booming. Jasper is startled by the fury rolling off him.

Alice, too, is puzzled. "Yes… She was involved with my brother, Edward Cullen. I'm sure you're aware. Surely your elders discussed it with you?"

"Yes, we _knew_ Bella," Sam snipes.

The dread Jasper had been desperately fighting returned in an instant. "What happened to Bella?" he demands.

Another wolf—russet-brown and nearly as large as the alpha—suddenly 'implodes,' revealing a boy younger than one standing before them yet also taller.

The first boy glares at his beta. "Jacob—"

"She's gone because of you," the boy named Jacob bellows, storming toward them. Jasper instantly reacts, carefully placing himself entirely in front of Alice.

"Jacob, stop," the black-haired boy commands.

Although Jacob obeys, halting in place, he continues to yell. "We all tried to save her. Sam caught her scent first. We ran as fast as we could but it wasn't fast enough. We—"

"Just tell us what happened," Jasper interjects, his voice rising above Jacob's.

"A redheaded bloodsucker caught Bella and threw her off a cliff!" Jacob shouts, stepping even closer. The other boy, having trailed closer, tightly grasps Jacob's shoulder.

"Jacob," he cautions, his tone heavy and assertive. "Calm down."

"No, Sam." Jacob jerks his shoulder away from Sam's hand. "They left her alone and unguarded. Now she's gone."

"Gone?" Jasper furrows his eyebrows. "She was thrown off a cliff and now she's… gone?"

The alpha, Sam, cocks an eyebrow. "She's dead."

Jacob doesn't speak, his fuming glare directed at Jasper.

"Victoria."

Jasper, Sam, Jacob, and the remaining wolves avert their attention to Alice, who has not spoken since Jacob's initial confrontation. She turns her gaze to Jasper, whose long-dead heart nearly breaks from the sorrow he finds in his wife's honey-gold eyes.

"Her name is Victoria," Alice continues, now staring blankly at Sam.

"Why did Victoria target Bella?" Sam's voice is surprisingly calm given the current storm of emotions brewing between everybody.

"Her mate hunted Bella in the past. We destroyed him and she disappeared. She must have… come back."

Sam's scowl deepens. "She wanted revenge."

"You were stupid to think she was safe," Jacob spits. "You could've warned us before you screwed off into the night."

One of the wolves—small and slender with tan fur—whines. Sam turns sharply and glares, to which the wolf bows its head in submission.

"What did he say?" Alice whispers, her voice heavy with grief.

Sam shakes his head. "Seth pities you. I don't. Are you leaving then?"

"We'll visit Bella's father to pay our respects," Jasper declares, circling his arm around his wife's shoulder. "Then we will depart—forever."

Alice, while trying to subdue her heartache, asks, "What's Bella's official cause of death?"

"Suicide," Jacob plainly states, his emotional rampage seemingly stifled by the veil of shame and despair draped over his soul. His misery is palpable to even Alice; she can't imagine what her empath of a husband is experiencing in the wake of such nightmarish emotions.

After the wolves depart, Jasper and Alice turn to face one another. Wordlessly they embrace, and Alice chokes out a tearless sob.

.

.

.

.

.

"Thank you, Alice, for your kind words," Charlie says, a small smile plastered onto his face. Jasper, lingering near the entryway to the dining room, observes Bella's father. His skin is withered and his hair has greyed significantly. It's as though he's aged twenty years since they last saw him.

"I just can't believe it," she responds in a soft murmur, "I really… I loved her like a sister."

"She admired you," Charlie remarked. He placed his hand on hers, flinching slightly from the iciness of her flesh. "You were her first real friend. She talked about you so much when you two went to school together."

 _And after?_ Alice bites her tongue, repressing the urge to question Charlie about Bella's behavior before her 'suicide.' Was she happy? Had she truly found meaning in life without the presence of her supernatural family?

"We're sorry to have never visited or called," Jasper chimes in. "With university and travel and the awkward situation with the… break up… Well, we regret not arriving sooner."

"It's okay, son" Charlie dismisses, gesturing at Jasper with a casual flick of his hand. "You entered the adult world and got distracted. Bella understood, I'm sure. How's school? What's your guys' majors?"

"Psychology," Alice and Jasper reply in unison.

"Of course," Charlie laughs. "I always thought you were a wise, old soul, Alice. Perceptive, too."

She smirks. "You have no idea."

"How's the rest of your family?"

Jasper notes the spark of anger carefully hidden behind Charlie's relaxed disposition. _He blames Edward._ "They are well. Carlisle is volunteering with charity work alongside Esme overseas." _A lie_. "Emmett and Rosalie are enjoying spring break in South America." _Technically true_. He does not mention Edward, a notion that consoles Charlie and momentarily pacifies his indignation.

"Thank you for having us," Alice says, faking a yawn, "but it's late and we still need to unpack. May we check in again tomorrow? We'll be leaving at noon."

"Yeah, I better let you guys unwind, must've been a long trip." Charlie stretches on the chair and then pats Alice's hand kindly. "Thank you for visiting. It… It meant a lot, kids."

Guilt once again plants itself in Jasper's heart. "I'm sorry, Charlie. We'll miss Bella forever."

"Don't be sorry, son. It ain't your fault."

Jasper balls his hands into fists at his sides. Even when he and his wife find themselves running through the forest, his body never relaxes.

 _My fault._

.

.

.

.

.

They're preparing to hunt—anything to distract themselves from their grief—at midnight when the stench of dog returns.

Alice sighs as she and Jasper makes themselves out of the house and into the cool night. To their surprise Jacob appears, clad in jeans and a loose shirt. His expression is unreadable, but his emotions are undeniable to Jasper.

Twice now the wolves have come without Alice's precognition detecting their actions. Both frustrated and impressed, Alice asks, "What's wrong?"

"Bella's not dead," Jacob answers while keeping a careful distance from them as they hover at the front door. All around them the forest sings: nocturnal creatures serenade one another and the trees brush up against each other, swaying in the wind.

Jasper's eyes narrow. "So you've lied to us."

"No," Jacob barks, returning the vampire's haughty expression, "I just don't think she's dead. It doesn't seem right."

"And what does that mean?" Alice is hopeful. She has dreaded the inevitable conversation with Edward that they will have to face.

He will not survive such heartbreak.

"I saw Victoria. I know how she was just by tracking her a few weeks before she caught Bella."

"She's calculating," Alice agrees.

Jacobs nods. "And a week after, I kinda got carried away looking and found Victoria's scent—or what was left of it—near the border of Canada… And I swear I smelled Bella, too."

"You think Victoria kidnapped Bella?" Jasper raises his eyebrows. "For what purpose?"

"I don't know," Jacob snaps, clearly vexed by Jasper's condescending tone. "But you _know_ that bloodsucker, right? You said her boyfriend 'hunted' Bella? What was _he_ like?"

"James was sadistic. He hunted and toyed with his victims like it was a fun little game," Alice explains, her voice bitter. "It wouldn't be farfetched to assume Victoria is the same."

Jasper eyes Jacob curiously. "Why have you told us?"

"I can't leave the pack again," he replies, his shoulders slouching. "That leech may come back. But you two can track her, can't you? I've got to admit, you're probably better at it then I am. If I tell you where I last found her scent, will you go there?"

"Of course," Alice immediately responds, her chin raised high as she stares the werewolf down. "She's family."

.

.

.

.

.

The coordinates were set.

At dawn Jasper and Alice departed. She had left a letter to Charlie apologizing for leaving without a proper goodbye, but wished him well for the future.

Jacob described stumbling upon an abandoned cabin nestled deep within the woods. He "smelt blood" but couldn't exactly pinpoint its location; it was faint and old. But buried within the stench of wood, forest, and blood, a whiff of fresh lavender had lingered—Bella's scent.

"She smells clean," he had described, "and warm and _good_. I would know her scent anywhere. But there was something _off_ about it."

It's snowing when Jasper and Alice arrive at the cabin. The unlocked door creaks as Jasper lightly pushes it open. A broken window has invited more snow into the small space; the white mush falls from the windowpane and onto the floor.

"Blood," Alice announces, "I smell it."

"Yes." Jasper moves toward the fireplace; broken logs and ash are piled inside of it. His eyes trail from the fireplace to the adjacent wall. "There's bleach, too."

"That confirms the missing family's whereabouts, I presume."

Jacob had handed them a newspaper he found while investigating the town. The cabin had belonged to a small family—a pregnant woman, her husband, and their six-year-old daughter. They had disappeared during a routine vacation in the woods, and the cabin could yield no results. There had been not a single sign of foul play and the cabin had been in pristine condition aside from the now broken window. In their home several miles back in town, several travel bags had gone missing as well as their car, clothes, and valuables.

Their relatives had denied that they would "up and leave" without notifying a single soul. Detectives were inclined to disagree due to evidence.

Jacob believed the relatives.

"It was a good cleanup," Alice says while running her index finger down the bathroom door. "Not good enough for us to miss, though." Her nose crinkles in disgust. "Victoria likely fed on the family. And if she _had_ kidnapped Bella, I doubt she'd want to call attention to herself, so she covered up the crime scene."

"Alice… Since when does _one_ vampire require _three_ humans to satisfy hunger?"

Alice's eyes widen as she gazes at her husband in horror. "Jasper, you don't think—?"

"It's a possibility," he whispers, his grief now beyond reckoning. "What better way to torture Edward—and us—than to kidnap Bella and transform her?"

"But Bella would be too strong for Victoria to handle," Alice argues, unwilling to believe that her brother's mate (and her best friend) is roaming earth with skin as hard as diamonds and eyes as red as rubies. "She'd fight. There's no way she could handle a newborn's strength and stamina."

"What if she had help?"

Alice groans then. " _Laurent_ , you mean? He's involved with Irina, remember?"

"But they've been periodically separated," Jasper countered. "I recall visiting Denali only to find Irina's prized 'boy toy' missing on occasion."

Alice pinches the bridge of her nose. "Jazz, I don't want to believe Bella is a vampire and currently in Victoria's 'possession.'"

"Of course not." Jasper rushes to his wife's side and plants a chaste kiss on her cheek. "But under these circumstances, it's not improbable."

They're quiet for several minutes, each trying to gauge the situation. Alice peers into the future, but it is empty aside from Edward's nervous expression as he drives down the highway. (It's clear and warm in the vision; perhaps Edward will return when spring arrives?)

"I can't see her, Jasper," Alice whispers. "I don't know why I didn't try before, but now that I'm looking... She's just _gone_. I can't find her!"

And yet suddenly her vision spirals and she finds herself gazing into a white expanse—snow peppers the earth and clouds the horizon in a pure white haze. A mane of brown hair comes into focus with a crown of snow forming on top. Alice presses closer into the vision, her icy heart near finding its long-dead rhythm.

Red eyes… Heart-shaped face… Skin as white as moonlight.

 _She's beautiful. She looks lost._

Jasper, wide-eyed and excited, cups his wife's face between his hands. "What did you see?"

"Bella… I don't know how, but I saw Bella."

He kisses her forehead but then draws back, concerned by her somber tone.

"She's alive… but…" Alice gazes at her husband, frightened by words she doesn't wish to say or even believe.

Jasper sighs and embraces his wife.

"Perhaps we should've never entered her life," he murmurs.

"She'd still be human," Alice agrees.


	3. Rebirth

**TWO YEARS EARLIER**

I awake with a start, gasping for air. My head feels splintered and a warm, unpleasant liquid thickens in my hair. My vision is blurred and dim; I can barely concentrate through the raging inferno burning through my body.

"Calm down," somebody commands, and rough hands pin me down on a cold, hard surface.

"I-I can't… breathe…"

"Then how are you talking?"

I hear laughter—a ribbon of ice slithers down my spine.

"You hit your head," the person explains, and I feel a warm cloth pressing against my skull; a sharp stab of pain rips through me and I squeal. " _Hard_."

"Hospital?" I gasp.

"Hell," the person clarifies, and I realize they're a woman. Through the haze consuming my sight and remaining senses, I catch a glimpse of her hair—orange and coily.

"H-How did I…? What… are…?"

"You're slurring, Bella," she sighs, her voice a mockery of disappointment. "You sound like a toddler learning to talk."

The name—Bella—is foreign and distant, and yet I know it's my name.

In fact it's all I know as my skull shatters and cracks.

"I'll make it better." A screech rips through me as I feel her run her tongue down my cheek. "You taste like heaven."

"What are you—what happened to me?"

The woman exhales loudly. "You and I went for a swim, remember?"

Gritting my teeth, I do not respond.

"You _do_ remember, right?" She leans closer; her curls brush against my forehead. "Bella, what do you _think_ happened to you?"

"I-I don't… know…"

My eyes search the wood-patterned ceiling. A crisp, chilly wind seeps into my skin.

"Do you know who I am?"

I squint at the woman, surveying her features. She's pale, the white of her skin almost luminous in the moonlight pooling into the room. I recoil in shock when I manage to focus on her face.

"Your eyes!" I scream.

The woman furrows her brow. "What about them?"

"They're red," I choke, feeling as though I am drowning. Blood dribbles from the corner of my mouth and down my chin.

"Dammit," she mumbles, and in the blink of an eye she is gone. Before I can comprehend what I have witnessed, she appears kneeling above me once more, her delicate hands wrapping gauze around my head. "Don't want you bleeding out now that I realize I have to give you the good ole' bite." She pauses midway to examine my face closely. "You remember I'm a vampire, right?"

"N-NO!" My voice is piercing and loud now. "HELP!"

" _Isabella_ , you need to relax," she implores, her voice suddenly sugary sweet and pleasant. "Yes, I'm a vampire. But you jumped from the cliff and I _saved_ you."

"I… I didn't…" But even as I deny her words, my mind remembers the way my body cut through the wintery air.

She strokes my arm now, soothing. "You hit your head on the way down. I think it's given you amnesia. Do you know who your father is? How about your mother? Your _boyfriend_?"

I can barely concentrate through the searing pain, let alone recall my family tree, yet after a long pause as I sift through my seemingly blank mind, I whisper, "My name's Bella…"

"Poor dove," she sighs. "I'll make it better."

An hour later, I am burning, burning, burning…

.

.

.

.

.

"What's your name?"

My throat tightens. I have found the strength the open my eyes, and yet my vision is sharp; clearer than glass. Why am I chained to a bed?

"Please," I whisper. Adjacent to me is a redheaded woman—the woman who had both saved and tormented me. Sitting cross-legged on a wooden box, she is a vision of beauty; however, her face is impassive, perhaps even bored.

She blinks once, and then blows a wayward lock of red hair out of her face. "I will give you _water_ ," she promises, "but first you will tell me your name."

"Bella."

She shakes her head. "No. It's Isabella."

"Isabella," I echo, nodding my head. It sounds crisp on my tongue.

"Now here," she says, retrieving a plastic bag from her coat pocket. "Drink this."

"That's blood," I groan, eyes as wide as China saucers.

"Yes." She tilts her head. "I've informed you three times now that you're a vampire. What do I have to do to make it stick?"

 _Vampire_.

"Oh," I whisper, remembering the prior night—or it could have even been a mere hour ago. "I'm sorry."

"You're in shock still," she explains, and then slashes open the plastic bag.

Immediately my nostrils flare and an overpowering wave of hunger possesses me. Deeply within my chest a growl begins to rumble to life, spilling from my mouth and cutting through the stillness of the room. She smirks and, leaning over me, pours the blood into my mouth. I swallow it eagerly, craning my neck and straining against the numerous iron chains wrapped around my body and limbs.

"More," I snarl after she tosses the empty bag aside.

"I need to manage you first," she says, ignoring my enraged expression. "Now try to remember: My name is Victoria and your name is Isabella."

"Isabella," I hiss.

 _Isabella and Victoria._ Our names sounds as sharp as knives—or fangs.

"Once again, Isabella: I, Victoria, would like to know if you can remember anything."

"I remember…" I close my eyes, savoring the scent of blood that has bloomed in the air. I inhale the sweet smell once before saying, "I remember that I want _blood_."

.

.

.

.

.

Vaguely I hear somebody—a little girl, in fact—sobbing hysterically.

"NO!" My redheaded savior, who calls herself Victoria, is shouting above the mayhem. She leaps forward and grabs ahold of the man's arm, tearing it from my grasp. "NO, NO, NO! BEHAVE!"

A snarl escapes my throat, and with almighty force I swing at her. She dodges and my hand connects with a metal object, sending it careening toward the window. The glass fissures and a sickening crack resonates through the room.

The little girl is shrieking now.

"It's your fault," Victoria growls, her eyes darting toward the child. "You nasty little thing, you just _had_ to come back for your fucking teddy bear—Christ, there's no meat or blood in there, put that tiny bitch _down_."

I don't realize she's speaking to me.

In fact I don't recognize anything other than that the blood calls to me. The girl's scream dies on her lips as my teeth sink into her throat, puncturing her jugular and spilling her life force into my mouth. Blood, sprayed across the wall and pooling on the floor, is singing to me from every direction.

The child grows limp in my arms and with her so does the thrill.

Tossing the tiny, curly-haired creature aside, I fall to my knees and start licking blood off of the corpses splayed in front of the fireplace; a middle-aged man and woman, their grey eyes staring listlessly into death.

"Ridiculous." Victoria scoffs.

An animal instinct overtakes me when she steps too close. My shoulders stiffen and I hunch over the dead bodies, a low hiss whistling through my clenched teeth.

Victoria throws her hands up in mock surrender and takes careful steps backward. "I've already fed, Isabella. But we need to clean this mess up."

Isabella.

Isabella Swan.

My name, spoken aloud in such a nonchalant manner, snaps me out of my stupor.

Horrified, I divert my attention to the child lying dead not two feet away from me. My senses spin out of control and somewhere in the distance I can hear somebody crying; it's a shrill whining noise, like a siren, winding up and gradually growing louder.

"God dammit," Victoria curses, her hands cupping my face. It's almost motherly if it she had discarded the twisted smirk ironed onto her face. "She's nothing to you. An empty vessel. You, however, are God's greatest gift."

"She's just a little girl," I scream, my senses wild and untethered.

 _Blood, blood, blood!_ The predator within me is screaming, begging, and carving a hole in my stomach. I feel starved; the hunger is blinding.

Somewhere, however, my soul—or what is left of it—is weeping. _Murderer! Animal! Savage!_

"You don't judge a lion for hunting a gazelle, do you?" Victoria tucks a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. I shiver at the touch. "So why are you judging yourself?"

"I'm not a lion," I protest, voice hoarse from grief. "I'm a _person_."

"Isabella…" My redheaded guardian plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and then turns my head so I am directly staring into her ruby eyes. "You are not a human. Not anymore."

"Tell me," I beg, leaning into her embrace, my arms coiling around her small waist. "Please tell me. Who was I?" My nostrils flare. The stench of blood is thickening. _I want, I want, I want._

Suddenly I detangle myself from her arms and pierce the neck of the corpse with my teeth, my fangs sinking into the frail flesh. A warm sensation spills into my mouth and fills my stomach and lights up my entire being. It's as if I am soaring through the heavens—weightless, free, _powerful_.

"I'll tell you after we clean up," Victoria promises, now hovering above me as I feed. "But I'd rather not. I'm not sure…"

I pause, eyes veering from my prey to my companion. "What? What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure your heart can handle it."

"Why?" I plead. "All I have is my name. What else can be taken from me?"

"That's just it, Isabella," she says, her voice soft as silk. She perches herself beside me, placing one hand on the little girl's face. I resist the shiver trying to rumble down my back. "Look at her. She was somebody's daughter and so were you. You were many things to many humans, and now you're gone. Not like it mattered in the end." She flicks her hand dismissively.

"What does that mean?" I demand, perplexed. Somewhere within my still heart I know she's right. "I don't matter?"

"You were a good, loving human," Victoria explains, caressing my arm. I've been enamored with her hands since the moment she gave me affection; her fingers are slender and her nails are perfectly clean. Her touch is… It's a love I cannot understand. "You're seventeen. You had a father and a mother, and then you met a vampire."

"I've always known about vampires?" Searching the depths of my mind has been a futile effort. It's all barren. Sometimes I see glimpses of myself in there, pale and afraid and weeping. I imagine I was an emotional girl, judging by these fleeting memories. It's the only taste I can remember - salt.

Victoria nods her head. "Yes. You fell in love with a vampire and he convinced you of the same."

"He used me?" My eyebrows pinch together. "Why?" I swallow hard, sneaking a glance at the dead humans splayed across the floor. "How could he resist my blood?"

"He wanted to play with you like a cat plays with its food. You loved him and he threw you to the wolves. Your poor human father…"

A phantom hand grips my heart and an icy cold sweeps through my body. "My father…? Who was he?"

"That's hardly relevant—"

"WHAT WAS HIS NAME?" I cry, lashing at her and grabbing both of her shoulders, causing her to hiss and rip herself away from me.

"Charlie Swan."

 _Charlie._

 _Charlie._

 _Charlie Swan._

 _CHARLIE!_

"I know him," I sob, but my eyes remain dry. "I can remember."

Victoria quips an eyebrow, and her eyes harden. "What exactly do you remember?" Has her voice always been so shrill? I haven't noticed until now.

"I just remember how worried he was about something." I wipe away the tears that do not exist, a gesture Victoria does not miss.

"You can't cry anymore," she explains, arms folded across her chest. "Vampires can't cry."

"So I can't even mourn my father…"

"The father you barely remember?" Victoria has grown impatient. "Bella, you didn't even know his name until two seconds ago. And you can't see him, if that's what you're thinking—"

"He's there," I whisper, looking desperately through the depths of my mind. "Charlie. He would check on me while I was asleep. He looked so tired and old."

"You were a dramatic girl."

"Why was I hurt when you found me?" Calmness has washed over me. I have pieces. Now I must find the others and solve the puzzle.

Victoria releases a small sigh. "A story for another time, Isabella. Have you fed enough?" I nod sheepishly, to which she says, "Then we're going to clean and get out of here."

"To where?"

"Wherever the road takes us. And please stop asking so many questions."

.

.

.

.

.

Victoria carries the barest of necessities: A watch, an iPad, and a crumpled photo of a handsome man. I had asked about the photo once, and she had merely scowled and shot a hateful look at me. When I had wondered about carrying more objects such as a book or a even a trinket of sorts, she had growled, "We have to always be on our feet. There's no time for sentiment."

 _What is she running from?_

The question eludes me. There are times when I think she is chasing after something on the horizon, but her cautious nature and skittish behavior are not the quirks I'd expect of somebody searching for a confrontation.

We have five rules to follow:

One: Never stay in one place for more than three days.

Two: Keep away from highly populated areas. ("You're weak right now," she had said. "Even the sight of a protruding vein on a human's arm can make you lose control."

Three: The places we choose must rarely see the sunlight.

Four: Never let the world know of the existence of vampires. ("The Volturi will destroy you," she snickered, and then refused to tell me who the Volturi are.)

Five: Any decision we make on an important matter must be last second. ("We have to exist moment by moment. We have all the time in the world to consider the future, so why bother?" She has then laughed her little bubblegum laugh.)

However, it is the fact she will not tell me the name of the vampire who abused and abandoned me that infuriates me.

Five months have passed since I have last asked. We are somewhere in the Midwest. Victoria never settles long enough to make a decision, and I have so little to remember that I don't bother descreening my environment for too long.

"Was his name Mike?"

We're strutting alongside train tracks, a sprawl of warehouses and thick weeds surrounding us. The moon is round and gold, and luminous stars pattern the expanse of midnight sky.

"Isabella," she sighs, refusing to meet my inquiring eyes. "You don't need to know."

I observe her carefully; her shoulders are relaxed and her hands are clasped behind her back. She has piled her mane of curls atop her head into a careless bun.

She's calm. It's a rare sight.

"You never told me why you _had_ to change me."

"You were hurt." She rolls her shoulders into a shrug. "And I knew of you once before."

"You knew me as a human?" My eyebrows fly up and I resist the urge to tug on her arm like a child demanding attention. "What was I like? How'd you know me?"

She smiles, although it does not touch her eyes. They are cold and cruel. "You were fragile. The vampire and his family thought you were entertaining. My coven and I happened upon you and your vampire's coven."

"They attacked us later," she continues, her voice sorrowful. My hand twitches; I wish to comfort her, but I know my intentions will not be well-received. "I thought having a human as a pet was… sick. My lover agreed."

"Your lover…" I can't imagine her as anything beyond calculating and resourceful, or mildly maternal on occasion. I wonder if her face glows when she's wrapped in the arms of a lover. She'd be beautiful if she didn't hide secrets behind her smiles.

"He died protecting me," she said quietly. "It was not long after that your vampire lover played too rough and then left you for dead."

A lump bobs in my throat. "I remember falling."

"He threw your body into the ocean," she explained, placing a hand on my shoulders as if sensing my distress. "I found you washed ashore. I'm sure your amnesia comes from the horror of your change. You were half-dead from a head wound when I gave you my venom."

"He sounds like a monster," I murmur, rage momentarily blinding me. "Why did he kill my father?"

"He's a sadist. Who knows." She casts an amused glance at my hands, which are now balled into fists at my sides. "Are you alright?"

"I know my name is Isabella Swan and I had a father named Charlie Swan who loved me. I liked to read and I… I cried a lot."

Victoria stops me in my tracks and places two hands on my shoulders. My body burns with anger.

"Victoria," I continue, wrapping my arms around myself. "I feel so lost. And I can't even sleep. I'm empty."

"Isabella." She presses her cool lips against my forehead. A tremble vibrates through me. "Even if you remembered your past, it's all gone. You're not a human anymore, and you have to leave all of those memories behind you."

"But I need to know," I cry, collapsing into her arms and heaving tearless sobs. She smooths her hand in circles on my back. "I need to know who took everything from me."

Victoria stiffens. "Why? What will you do to him?"

"I don't…" I can't imagine hurting anybody, and yet the hate is still there, a demonic presence lurking in the shadows of my mind. "I just need to know why he did it. I need to confront of him."

"That's not safe," she says, stringing her fingers through my brunette tresses. _Yes, keep touching me._ Somebody held me once, and it was loving. "His coven is large and strong, and we're two wayward vampires with nothing but each other."

"I miss something I can't remember," I protest, albeit in a tiny whisper.

"Then tell me what you need, but it has to be safe."

 _I need…_

Blood. We fed hours ago. Victoria finds men and tells me they're monsters who have hurt women, and I savor their blood as if it's magic. _I'll take all your hurt_ , I think, speaking to women who have perished at the hands of violent men. _You don't need to worry._

Father. His name is Charlie, and he thinks I'm dead. I wonder who had flocked to my funeral; I can smell the white roses.

Home.

Home was a bed of flowers; a slant of sunlight. I squint at the frayed edges of a far away memory, but it evades me at every corner, slipping through my mind like dust.

 _Him._

He crushed my heart and threw it into the icy depths of the ocean. Waves are breaking against rocky wall. Salt. I smell salt; it's my tears.

I'm hesitant to tell Victoria that although I do not remember his name, I absolutely remember the pain that swallowed me whole when he had discarded me.

Whoever he is.

"I need you," I whisper finally, leaning back so as to stare at her, eyes wide and red and full of wonder. "You're all I have."

"I know."

She peppers my cheeks with butterfly kisses and then we continue walking toward that dark and mysterious horizon.

.

.

.

.

.

We have new rules.

Well, frankly, I have new rules.

"If they ever find you," Victoria says, holding my gaze with her own, "pretend to not remember anything. Say you fell and woke up like this."

"Understood."

"They're emotionally manipulative," she continues, "and they'll play with your heart. They'll spoon feed you love and make you feel wanted. And it's because they fear what you are and what you can do."

"Huh? I'm just a vampire. So are they."

"You had gifts as a human."

My eyes sparkle. "Really? You said some vampires have powers, like sightseeing."

"Yes. And I think you're immune to some of these powers."

"Do you think they're looking for me?"

"No. They left you for dead. But if you're ever caught in their web, just play dumb and don't lose yourself into their emotional games."

Dread floods my chest. "What about you?"

"If you're ever caught, don't let them know I exist." Noticing the fear ironed onto my face, she smiles lightly and adds, "But I'll never be far behind."

"Please don't leave me," I say, childlike and sad.

 _Don't abandon me. Please stay._

"I'll find you when I need to find you, if we are ever separated."

"You're acting like this is an absolute!" I cry, shoving her shoulder.

Victoria grimaces. "It's a precaution."

I stomp my foot; a rock crumbles to pieces underneath the sole of my boot. "No, I think you're scared they're looking for me."

"Don't be childish, Isabella," she chides. "You're far too old for that."

 _I can't lose you._ It's a thought that consumes me day and night.

We've journeyed through hail and snow, trudging across cold terrains and simply letting our legs lead us toward an unknown tomorrow. Time has melted into oblivion for me—Victoria says she had sired me a year and a half ago. My bloodthirst is still difficult to control, but I find myself forgetting what it meant to know shame and guilt.

I remember one crispy cool evening in God knows where I had perched myself amongst the thick branches of a large tree. In admiration I watched a mountain lion stalk a young deer; I noted the sleekness of its legs, the way its shoulders pushed back and its spine curved as it hid behind a thick bush. The deer, with its scrawny legs and naive mind, casually sniffed the ground; it was utterly oblivious to its impending demise.

 _We were built this way for a reason_ , I had thought. We were like marble cut into the shape of Greek gods and goddesses—impossibly divine and terribly enthralling.

"We can feed on animal blood," Victoria had said after daring me to taste the blood of a wandering coyote, "but the taste of human blood is so rich and sweet."

Indeed the coyote had tasted horrendous. It was neither satisfying nor a means to quench my aching thirst, and I felt ravenous afterward.

"Why did we evolve to lure in humans if it wasn't in our nature?" She had nudged me playfully, and I couldn't find it in myself to disagree.

Regardless of vampire kind, the attachment I feel for my guardian seems… human. It's gentle. As eager as she is to goad or snap at me, she is just as quick to sooth my terrors and to hold my hand, or to kiss me chastely on the lips.

There are deeper emotions blossoming in my heart but I am too shy to investigate them.

.

.

.

.

.

 _NO! NO!_

 _VICTORIA!_

I cut wildly through the snow, running as if a wildfire trailed not too far behind me. My eyes dart from the trees to the bushes to the weeds, and then to the sky. Dawn is approaching; the air is the color of peaches and mangoes, and the sun peeks above the horizon. Birds are singing playful tunes and I can hear the sounds of a lost fawn hopping along the edge of the trees.

"VICTORIA!" I scream, my voice echoing across the land.

The birds become eerily silent.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

I fall to my knees. It feels as though an anchor has crashed down upon my shoulders.

Ten days.

Victoria has been gone for ten days.

How am I to hunt without her guidance? With disgust, my mind returns to the fawn stumbling through the forest.

 _No_.

The snow is light and trickles down on my syrup-brown hair.

My stomach is painfully empty.

 _Blood, blood, blood… I need… I can't be alone. Not like this._

"Please," I cry, my voice now faint as I gaze into the pastel-colored sky, "I don't want to be alone."


	4. Lost Girl

**PRESENT DAY**

I've curled myself into a bear's den. Its blood is still fresh on my tongue. I listen intently to the snow petaling the earth. Wherever I am, it's a beautiful place. Wolves howl an ancient song into the moonlit skies every night since I've found my small haven.

Uncertainty has stopped me from vacating the territory I have made for myself. Victoria never allowed me near cities with too many humans, and I am too fearful to venture further into the woods in case I stumble upon a highly-populated area.

 _I can't expose myself_.

With that thought an awful pain twists into my stomach. The animal blood I have been drinking has been a minor hope that I will remain sane in these conditions— _minor._ Its effect on my thirst is simply _enough_ and nothing more. Human blood is God's gift to mankind. Or is it "vampirekind"?

A little over two years as a vampire and it still boggles my mind that such a creature isn't mere fiction. Why is it that I can remember the work of Bram Stoker or Nosferatu's hideous appearance but I cannot recall my own history?

Frustrated, I dig my fingers into my skin. The porcelain flesh cracks.

Oh, I miss tears.

There are few sensations and tastes I know of from my too unclear and distant human memories. Tears were as salty as the ocean; blood smelt of rust and copper. And, worst of all, a ghost of a man's kiss lingers on my lips—his lips were cool and smooth.

Misery accompanies that phantom kiss.

"He didn't want me," I whisper aloud, my arms tightening around my body. "And then he _murdered_ me."

I may be indestructible, but I have found myself physically afraid on two occasions: When I had fall down a steep hill (Victoria had laughed cruelly) and the one and only time I had dipped into water. I felt as though I would drown… although my head was above the surface. I couldn't shake the terror.

"Humans sometimes carry their trauma with them when they change," Victoria had said. She had dried my hair for me, and then later handed me a copy of _The Things They Carried_.

I wonder if it's common for vampires to comfort their creations. She had told me that I am "easy to love" but that my "girlish and sensitive" nature would make me easy prey for "sadistic and dominating vampires."

If only she knew—whereas she has vanished—that a wound burns in my frozen heart, and it only bleeds when I think of the man who had taken my mind and body from me and left me to drown.

.

.

.

.

.

We shouldn't have separated for the hunt.

"I'm an idiot!" I shout while pinning a mountain lion to the ground. It roars and snaps its teeth, but with the swiftness of a panther I grasp the tuft of fur around its neck and twist; a sickening crunch rumbles through its body and it falls limp in my arms.

My fangs sharpen and I puncture its thick hide. Blood pools into my mouth, but there is no pleasure filling my body. I am simply "filled." An unpleasant ache expands in my stomach and coils around my throat.

 _I need human blood._

"I'm still not full," Victoria had complained. "Stay here. I'll back shortly."

I had sheepishly watched as she jetted off into the woods, her red curls a fiery mess. After an hour, I started to track the moon's placement in the sky. At approximately midnight, nocturnal hunters had awoken from their daytime slumber. An owl had observed me quizzically as I paced the small clearing Victoria had left me in.

The next morning is when I panicked. Questions overwhelmed me.

 _Should I look for her?_

 _How far away from humans are we?_

 _Has she been caught by another vampire?_

All of these nervous interactions with myself had led me to where I am now: A madwoman storming a remote forest for replenishment.

The lion is drained. I linger above it, admiring the sunken face and its massive teeth.

"Were you alone too?" I nudge the carcass with my foot. A twig snaps but I don't bother turning around; I can smell smaller predators approaching cautiously, their noses enamored by the stench of a fresh kill.

"Go ahead," I grunt, sidestepping the dead animal and making my way back to my little den. I don't bother concealing my footsteps—twigs and leaves crunch beneath my boots. I haven't bothered with my closes. A tattered sweater adorned my torso and my jeans were torn and stained with dirt, mud, and blood.

A small smile tugs at my mouth as I think of what Victoria would say if she returned. She would have fresh clothes available for me every week.

"You're messy," she'd sneer after a tossing a blouse or a pair of pants my way.

In truth I'm not concerned about my clothes or hair or general presentation. The only humans to have seen my wild appearance have been my "meals" and I imagine vampires are unbothered by, well, _everything_.

Everything aside from the Volturi.

All I know is that they're a powerful vampire government with spies all across the continents, and I can never break their laws.

I don't think they're concerned about a lone vampire patrolling an obscure forest in the middle of God knows where.

I'm somewhere west in a sprawl of trees and mountains and a thinning layer of snow.

Spring is arriving faster than I'd like.

.

.

.

.

.

I carve a "V" into a tree trunk. My nails are caked in mud and sap.

My quartz skin is glittering in the sunlight.

I have read my copy of _The Things They Carried_ dozens of time now—the pages have yellowed and the spine is worn. It has become too difficult to even look at.

It was the only "sentiment" Victoria had blessed me.

"Sentiment is for humanity," I murmur to no one in particular, banging the back of my head repeatedly against the boulder I'm leaning against.

I'm impossibly bored and terribly starved for human blood.

Animals are becoming scarce; they're avoiding the perimeter I have set for myself. Prey have navigated to safer areas and predators have followed, and I am left with the bare minimum of blood supply.

Rabbits cannot sustain me for long.

I have to move further.

With a heavy sigh I push myself off the boulder and survey the trees in search of the tallest. Locating it, I rapidly climb the trunk and scurry to the top. The branches quake and the wood groans in protest. Kneeling on the highest branch, I let my eyes fall across the horizon—trees, trees, and more trees.

I need to head toward the mountains where I'm certain my food as fled. Noting the snow melting away, I can't help but release another sigh.

 _It can't possibly be spring already._

"You can do this," I state, leaping from the tree and landing with a loud thud on the ground.

By nightfall I reach the base of the mountain. I had devoured a pack of coyotes an hour ago, and a modest burst of energy shoots throughout my dead veins. Yet with the fulfillment of my appetite, the boredom and anxiety return with crushing weight.

The future seems to be a frightful and flighty thing.

I know there are other vampires—in particular a coven I've been warned of—but Victoria says to only every traveling in twos or threes, and never any more.

"Like a big nuclear family," I scoff to myself, carefully studying my environment. "Except we like to eat people."

 _Humans_ , I can practically hear Victoria correct. _There are no "people"—only vampires, their prey, and "lesser beings."_

Whatever _that_ means.

.

.

.

.

.

The snow has disappeared and the flowers have bloomed. The wild is, _well_ , wild: Birds sing cheerily and a plethora of pristine colors greet me every sunrise. Occasionally the clouds part and the sun opens its bright arms for the world to embrace.

I can remember the story of Icarus, and I wonder if I, too, can melt under the sun.

But then I'd drown, and the thought is terrifying.

It's one of those rare sunny days. I'm sprinting round tree and shrubs, my feet carrying me in a direction of their choosing. If my heart could beat, it would be drumming obnoxiously against my ribcage.

"I know this place," I whisper, peering through the woods into the distance.

A gasp spills from my mouth when my feet touch upon grass and flowers, and I am suddenly transported into a wide clearing of color and beauty: It's a meadow.

"No," I sigh, taking careful steps forward.

Before I can process the broken and strange memory trying to pierce through my skull, a foreign but all too obvious scent strikes my nostrils.

A low hiss escapes through my now clenched teeth.

"Stay away," I warn, my eyes shifting to the two approaching figures: A tall and handsome man with tousled blonde hair and a petite, raven-haired young woman.

They pause across the opposite side of the meadow, bewilderment and apprehension etched onto their faces.

The woman speaks first, her sing-song voice filling my ears. "Bella… Are you…? What's wrong?"

"Bella?" My eyebrows fly up. "You think you know me?"

 _Stupid question._ I _barely know me._

"We know you, Bella Swan," the man says, his eyes compelling and a strange but lovely honey-gold. He doesn't miss my perplexed expression and adds, "We're vampires like you."

"I know what you are," I snap, my jaw tight. "Why are your eyes that color?"

"Yours are too," the woman interjects, tilting her head and studying me with a mix of fascination and sorrow. "We feed from animals rather than humans."

"My eyes aren't…" I rack my brain for words, but I know arguing with them is pointless.

Because I haven't seen my own face is a _long_ time.

"But vampire eyes are red," I finally reply, my voice weak.

"If you feed from humans, yes," the man agrees, nodding at me. "Your eyes are gold, so it means you've been feeding from animals."

"I had no choice," I retort.

Neither of us have moved an inch. Curiosity and fear struggle for control of my body. They can give me answers, perhaps even guidance. But can I trust them?

As if hearing my thoughts, the man says, "You can trust us, Bella. We were your friends once."

"I know who you are," I growl, clarity rushing through me. "I've heard of you. Where's the rest of you? Where is _he_?"

"Bella, what's wrong?" the woman asks, bemused.

"We're not your enemy," he agrees, arching his eyebrow. "Who have you been speaking to?"

"Nobody," I answer too quickly, remembering Victoria's warning. "I don't have many memories, but I do know what he… did to me."

"Can we come closer?" The woman's eye are sympathetic and her lips curve into a small but sincere smile. "I know you're scared and you seem to have amnesia, but we don't want to hurt you. You are somebody I _love_ , Bella."

"Love?" My mind reels at the word.

Charlie Swan… Charlie was love.

There was a man and he, too, was love—until he let the ocean eat me alive.

"I fell and then I woke up like… this." I gesture to myself; the perfectly cut angles on my face and the chocolate-brown locks of hair that tumble wildly down my spine. "I remember my name and I remember my father and that's it."

 _I remember lips as cold as ice brushing against my cheek like a gentle breeze._

The woman's eyes are impossibly sympathetic. I want to puke. "How long has it been?"

"Two years, give or take."

"Surely not on your own?" The man challenges, his face impassive.

 _Don't let them I know exist_ , I hear Victoria instruct, her girlish and high-pitched voice echoing through my memories.

"A vampire named Victoria," I finally answer, noting their shared look of horror. "She's dead," I quickly add, conjuring a false image of her tattered remains.

 _If you must lie, make yourself believe that lie, Isabella._

Always, Victoria. Stay with me, always.

"Dead?" His eyebrows fly up. "She was destroyed?"

I roll my shoulders into a shrug. "Yeah. I think another vampire got to her. She wasn't exactly nice in the year or so I knew her."

 _Indeed she wasn't "nice"—she was volatile and unpredictable and wild and dangerous. She was an angel risen from fire; a saint bathed in blood._

"May we come closer?"

Do I have a choice? "Okay."

In the bat of an eyelash they are a couple of feet away from me. The woman's smile is warm, so warm.

"What are your names?" I ask, curiously eyeing the man. His stare is hard and challenging, as if he is gazing into my soul.

"I'm Alice," she answers, holding out her hand. Sheepishly I take it, and she then clasps her other hand over mine. I bristle at her touch, prepared to be swept into a fight, but a strange sense of calm floods me and the tension in my shoulders and spine slip away.

"Jasper," he greets, nodding once at me.

"Alice," I echo, letting her name roll of my tongue.

There's a blonde girl with a poofy dress and a caterpillar somewhere in my head. Hmm.

"We were friends," she continues, finally releasing my hand.

"You were friends with a human?" I arch my eyebrow. "Why?"

Jasper tilts his head, his eyes deep and intense. Will he find my secrets? Does he have a gift? I rearrange my false memories—Victoria's severed head lies atop a pile of limbs.

 _But what if it's true?_ A gut-wrenching pain twists into my stomach.

"Are you alright?" Jasper inquires, his eyebrows pinching together.

"I'm _fine_ ," I snap, wishing to gore out his eyes. "I'm just finding this all hard to believe, you know?"

"We've been vampires for years, Bella—"

"I go by Isabella," I interject.

"Isabella," Alice continues, offering me a reassuring smile. "We tolerate human presence fairly well. We prefer to blend in rather than hide. And, as we've told you, we hunt animals."

Odd. "Willingly? Why?"

"We like to think we're not gods," she explains, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're not, but it's only _nature_ that they're our prey," I counter, confusing by the sincerity of her words. "It's not murder when it's necessary for our survival."

"Did Victoria teach you that?" The expression on Jasper's face is unreadable and it unnerves me.

I fold my arms over my chest. "Why the interrogation?"

"She's right," Alice says, elbowing Jasper. "Isabella, would you like to come with us?"

"Can you help me feed?" I ask, my eyes brightening.

Alice smiles kindly at my suggestion. "How long has it been since you've feed?"

"Not long ago, but…"

"She wants human blood," Jasper whispers, turning his attention to the petite vampire beside him.

Her smile falls. "Oh."

"We can't do that," Jasper explains, "but we can help manage your animal diet."

"Restricting me like a child?" Anger bubbles inside of my chest like boiling water. "I don't agree with your lifestyle."

"If you want to come with us, you'll have to adhere to our diet."

Alice seems to buckle under her male companion's harsh tone. "Jasper, but what if…?"

"Who would hunt with her and _not_ lose control, Alice?" Jasper stares intently at me and my anger wavers. "Carlisle, yes, but he would never forgive himself if he watched Bella Swan decimate a human. Yes, I know it's Isabella," he continues, noticing my mouth open as I begin to correct him. "But you were Bella Swan once. That's who we knew."

"Jasper…"

"She's a stranger, Alice," he murmurs, placing his hand on her shoulder.

A familiar sensation punches me in the gut.

 _They'll leave me here. Alone._

"No, it's… fine…" I stumble with my words and my voice seems far away. Both vampires gaze warily at me. "I'll play by your rules. Just… Please don't leave me here."

"We never planned on it," Alice assures, shooting her husband a haughty glare.

"Will… There's more of you, I know it. Will he be there?"

"Edward?"

 _Edward, Edward, Edward, Edward, Edward, Edward…_

A meadow, a girl and a boy, cold lips.

Water crushing my bones and filling my lungs.

Pain.

Sad songs and salty tears.

Vampires cannot lose consciousness, and yet my vision goes black as a terrible memory sinks its teeth into my mind.


	5. Revelations

"Bella," Alice's voice calls to me through the haze, frantic and concerned. "You need to calm down. Jazz?"

"She's overwhelmed," Jasper responds, and I can feel a strange wave of serenity come crashing down upon the white hot rage that is simmering in my dead veins. The two emotions struggle for power, and all I can think is, _He may as well have ate my heart and spat it out._

I feel a comforting hand on my shoulders and suddenly my vision returns. "Victoria?" I ask hopefully, only to find myself gazing into the gold irises of Alice.

She furrows her eyebrows. "Are you worried about Victoria?"

Panic sets in. _No, they'll hunt her and destroy her._ "Sometimes. She frightened me. I know she's gone, but I can't get her out of my head."

Fire engine red curls and blood red eyes dance across my memories.

Bittersweetly, I bury them.

Alice shares a strange glance with Jasper and even stranger he nods.

"Can one of you read minds?" I ask, perplexed and alarmed.

 _Nobody can possess my secrets._

"No," Alice answers, chuckling lightly. "But we've been together for so long, we just… _know_."

Jasper, arms now crossed, stares evenly at me while saying, "You'll come with us, but you must know… What you feel for Edward, you can't let it consume you like that. He loves you."

"I don't remember him," I say earnestly, shaking my head, "but I can remember what I felt. It was like my heart was broken. I've never felt so betrayed in my entire life, I think."

"We'll answer everything later," Alice promises, letting her hand trail down my arm. Instinctively I lean into her touch, distant memories struggling to surface: Victoria softly caressing my hands, my knuckles, my hair, always gazing at me in wonder… and sometimes sorrow.

Jasper smiles encouragingly at me and then offers his hand. "Come with us. We were a family once. We can be a family again."

Charlie Swan.

Victoria… Ruby eyes and red lips.

" _But the thing about remembering is that you don't forget,"_ I had read in _The Things They Carried_ , and as I swallow my heart whole and let its secrets sink into the depths of my mind, in a place even I can't find, I vow to remember Victoria's foreboding words about this coven.

They manipulate. They fold you like paper, like origami, until you're somebody else entirely. They have "gifts." Alice's sugar-sweet smile is a mask. Jasper's knowing eyes are deeper than the ocean. Learn their gifts and lap up their secrets and play your part.

Be Bella Swan.

Let Isabella go… For now.

I promise to carry my hurt with me and drop it at the feet of the ever elusive _Edward_.

I will never be prey ever again—not to the fever-sickness of love, not to manipulative sadists, and certainly not to the man who crippled my bones and fractured my forgotten mortal soul.

"You can call me Bella, if you want," I offer, arranging my mouth into a sheepish smile and tucking a wayward lock of hair behind my ear.

"You don't have to appease us," Jasper disagrees, arching an eyebrow but smiling nonetheless at my sudden light and hearty disposition.

"You knew me as Bella," I say, tilting my head, "so I guess I'll try and be Bella."

.

.

.

.

.

We've been heading to Alaska for a countless number of days now. For my own comfort we've chosen to drive, seeking empty roads and beautiful visions of forests and mountains. When they offered to fly, even with a small charter plane, I was taken aback. The idea of sitting in a small space with a handful of humans is both titillating and anxiety-inducing, but I obviously don't want to fall out of their favor.

"I'd drain them," I admitted, refusing to meet their pitying eyes with my own ashamed ones. "I wouldn't even hesitate."

Alice had then purchased a sports car, much to Jasper's amusement.

"She acts like she needs an excuse," he had said as we waited for her return, suitcases and duffle bags at our feet; Alice had purchased clothes for me, and I admit she's tasteful with fashion, albeit too flashy for me. "But she's been eyeing that model for years now."

"Where's all this money come from?" I had asked, in awe of their wealth. "You have so much of it and I don't think you have jobs, so…"

"Stock. Hidden assets. Alice's powers help as well."

I've learned that Alice has been blessed with precognizition. It's apparently "subjective" and generally in tune with her personal relationship with her husband, Jasper, and their "family." (It's odd how committed they are to human culture: familial ties, settling in houses, marriage, even _school_.)

"Bella, are you alright?" Alice asks, clasping my hand and disrupting my daydreaming.

Jasper, driving steadily and speedily down a desolate road, curiously eyes us; Alice has chosen to perch herself in the back seat alongside me.

I sigh, unwilling to bet against Jasper's empathic abilities. "I'm just nervous about meeting these vampire friends of yours."

"Carmen and Eleazar are kind and caring individuals," Alice assures, tightening her grip. An involuntary shiver slips down my spine. "Irina and Kate are also great women. Tanya is their leader and she's just a _gem_."

"You trust them?"

 _Because definitely I don't trust you._

"They're family to us."

Jasper inclines his head slightly to the right, a gesture neither I nor Alice miss.

"Bella," Alice begins, scooting closer; her knee grazes mine. Her voice is soft and low, and the nervousness already coiling around my heart tightens. "Do you remember a vampire by the name of Laurent?"

 _Laurent?_ I cock my head, bemused. "No."

It's not a lie—truly. Should I be concerned?

"You don't know Laurent," Jasper confirms, his grip on the steering wheel loosening.

"He was a companion of Victoria," Alice explains, carefully observing my expression. "We thought you might be shocked to see him."

"Why is he in Alaska with your Denali friends?" I demand.

 _Is it the man Victoria loved? But I thought_ he _was dead?_

"He's involved with one of them. Her name is Irina."

"He defected from Victoria and James," Jasper adds, his tone apathetic.

I avert my attention to him, now more curious than I've ever been. Victoria was— _is_ —a mystery to me, a tantalizing one at that. I've always imagined her love for James. Did they kiss chastley as she would with me, her lips glossing over my forehead like a mother's sweet kiss? Or would they devour each other hungrily, all carnage and raw passion? It's difficult to imagine Victoria giving herself wholly to another. She was never a vulnerable or gentle woman, two qualities I had admired greatly.

She was a survivor, as I intend to be.

"James was her mate," Alice says, now staring out the window. "He tried to murder you, Bella. We were forced to end him."

 _… What?_ Ugly anger punctures my chest.

Jasper's shoulders stiffen. "Bella, he's gone. There's no need to feel defensive."

Lies.

They're trying to victimize me, I can see it.

"I see…" I fiddle with my thumbs, thinking of what to say.

 _Who can I trust but my own feelings?_

When I consider Charlie, I feel warm and cold all over. I wish to see his face and hold him to my chest and ask for his forgiveness—as if becoming a vampire was ever my choice.

And yet when I consider Edward—and, by extension, his family—a strong rush of anger and sorrow and fear seek to drown me forever in their dark embrace.

Victoria, however… Victoria is everything: Terror, isolation, love, passion, fire…

I can hear her voice and smell her scent and feel her skin.

I miss her wild mane and the pure chaos she was.

"Laurent is no danger to you," Jasper promises.

Alice nods firmly, her eyes hard and her smile tight.

 _Liars_.

.

.

.

.

.

We've stopped to hunt again and again and again—merely because I'm so hungry all of the time, it's almost impossible to stay sane during the lull of slow travel.

"I take it Victoria indulged your thirst quite often?"

I nod once at Jasper, guarded against his suggestion. I hate it when they mention Victoria. It's obvious they're pressing for information on my relationship with her.

I'll spoon feed them what they want to hear.

"I was weak when I woke up," I started, indulging memories I despised. Sometimes if I close my eyes for too long, I can hear the little girl's horrified scream as I devoured her parents. Guilt generally doesn't accompany these memories considering I have nothing to regret, and yet I can feel the tether of sorrow tugging at my heartstrings.

Heaving a sigh, I continue, "Even for a vampire I was so breakable. I couldn't remember anything and it made me feel crazy and alone. I guess Victoria didn't want me lashing out so she just let me feed even when I was a little bit hungry."

"It shows," Alice remarks, not unkindly.

"It's an odd technique for a sire," Jasper adds, his tone dismissive. "I was raised to restrain myself when needed. Drinking blood from humans was a mere necessity, never a luxury. Sometimes, however, when I accomplished my duties, it was a reward."

"Were you perhaps a dog at the time?" I chuckle to myself, trying to conceal my nervousness. _Who is this mysterious gentleman with such a bloody past?_ "Sounds like you had a controlling, ah, _sire…_

Victoria is more than "sire," master, teacher to me. She's the fire that rebirthed me.

"You could say that." Jasper smirks to which Alice rolls her eyes.

"Well, we're going to have to help you temper your thirst," Alice says, an amiable smile on her lovely face. Her perpetually cheery mood astounds me. "It may take time and it will be a difficult process."

"I have a lot of time," I joke, laughing lightly.

"You were so shy and gentle when you were human," Alice comments in a flippant manner. "I really like seeing you like this."

"Like what?" I press, raising my eyebrow.

"Strong-willed," Jasper drawls.

"Reserved and guarded with an iron heart and iron skin. You're practically lethal to look at," Alice adds, winking at me.

I shrug. "I don't know how to fight."

"No, but you know how to _survive_ ," Jasper says. "You had no memories and you were in the presence of an extremely dangerous vampire. And then she was gone, and you still found your way. You never broke."

"Most newborns would've become feral in your position," Alice agrees, sweeping a strand of hair away from the side of my face. I turn to stare at her, a scowl on my face. If I were human I imagine I would be blushing right about now.

"Victoria wasn't dangerous to me," I explain, carefully thinking of what to say without revealing how deeply complex my relationship with my creator is—how bonded I am to her. "She was just… _Victoria_. She was a mystery." I crane my neck the other way, my eyes now observing the road as our vehicle sped down the highway. My voice feels far away. "I wonder why she turned me."

 _I wonder if she cared for me as I care for her._

"She may have found you useful," Alice whispers, "or she may have thought of it as some sort of game."

Jasper interjects, "It could have been both."

I don't bother responding to their assumptions. Surprisingly I've found it difficult to distrust Alice, but I've also come to understand her in ways I don't believe she recognizes in herself. Every move is calculated; she gazes into the future, molding it to her liking and carefully deconstructing choices and decisions before taking confident steps into the future. It's highly manipulative but I can't imagine acting differently if I was in her shoes.

It was a few days ago, however, when I realized _why_ Victoria's choices were oftentimes erratic and sudden.

 _She's been evading Alice's powers from the very beginning._

Now I must learn to as well.

.

.

.

.

.

The house we approach has been built in a secluded area atop a cliffside; a large and beautiful wooden structure with wide, tall windows and a massive garage crafted from grey stone. Mounds of snow have piled against the gigantic manor. Our vehicle crunches noisily against the road as we come to a slow stop behind a heavy-looking and wide black truck parked outside of the garage doors. Jasper turns the key in the ignition and the car stills.

Jasper nods once at Alice before opening the car door and sliding out of the seat. After he has closed it shut behind him and started toward the front doors, Alice takes my hands in hers and smiles briskly at me.

My lips curve into a frown. "Should I be worried about something?"

"Right now we'll be meeting Carmen and Eleazar, as well as Tanya and Kate. Irina and _Laurent_ "—she says his name with a twinge of disgust in her tone—"are hunting. We've all agreed not to inform our family just yet. We want you to adjust first."

I shrug, unbothered by her words. "Fine by me. You said I haven't met these people before, right?" After she confirms my question with a nod, I ask, "Are they okay with me being here?"

"They'll have to be," she replies, much to my chagrin, before opening the door and stepping out into the snow. I echo her movement, and my quartz skin welcomes the cool and fresh wintery air. In the distance I can hear creatures roaming through the bushes and trees. My throat throbs but I ignore it—instead focusing on the gorgeous olive-skinned man and woman who are approaching me, their smiles polite but reserved.

"Carmen, Eleazar," Alice says, before gesturing to me with her hand, "this is Bella Swan. She's the newest addition to our family, but she's an old and dear friend."

 _You abandoned me to die_ , I want to retort, but instead I smile kindly at the couple standing before me.

Eleazar extends his hand and I heartily take it. He cocks his head and shares a momentary look of curiosity with his mate. She raises her eyebrow ever so slightly in response and I bite back a groan.

"What is it?" I ask, a bit too haughtily for Alice's liking.

"I can sense something peculiar about you," he explains, his voice deep and strong.

Carmen's smile widens. "He means he can sense you harbor some sort of… _ability_."

"What?" Alice's eyes widen.

I drop Eleazar hand, perplexed. "Like… Like how Alice can see the future?"

"I'm not sure what your power is," he says, his eyebrows pinched together and an expression of frustration plastered onto his face. "It's as if my own power is being _repelled_."

"Perhaps that's her power."

I stare beyond Carmen and Eleazar, and my mouth almost falls open. A woman with strawberry blonde hair and a face sculpted by the angels themselves strolls toward us; an easy smile hangs on her mouth. Although her height is average at best, her legs are slender and long.

"I'm Tanya," she says, holding out her hand.

I shake her hand with little enthusiasm, my attention now centered on a _second_ woman coming into view. A long and silky mane of pale blonde hair falls down her back and her eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"You broke her, Tawn," the second woman jokes, a light chuckle rolling off her tongue. "I think we're crowding her." The smile on her face reaches her eyes, which glitter like gold. "I'm Kate."

"You two are too easily impressed with yourself," Alice laughs, shooting me a wide grin.

Jasper joins us then, and settles his hand on my left shoulder. I nearly jump, surprised; he's never been the "touchy feely" sort, and I'm shocked by his protective gesture.

"We shouldn't overwhelm her," he states firmly before leading me around the group and toward the front of the house. Behind me Kate scoffs and Tanya giggles.

"They're very beautiful," I remark as we step into the wooden house, warmth and coziness greeting us. A nice sprawl of sofas surround a marble coffee table. A fire crackles in the chimney as flames consume a pile of wood. "All of them."

"You aren't too bad yourself," Jasper jokes.

I pique my eyebrow at him but I don't bother refuting his statement. Weeks ago I was caked in mud and blood and my hair was a mess of knots and split ends. And yet now dressed casually in jeans and a flannel button-up I can't imagine striking anybody's fancy.

"Why are you doubting yourself?"

I lean away from Jasper, grimacing. "I'm not, I just…" After sighing heavily, I whisper, "Everybody's so proper and pretty and I'm just… struggling not to tear into the forest and eat a raccoon or something. I feel like a savage."

Jasper doesn't respond, but for a moment I feel as if he understands my heart in a way I cannot.

And it _terrifies_ me.

These two—Alice and Jasper—seem to love me deeply, particularly Alice. Her connection with me teeters between sisterly and motherly, and although overbearing at times I can't help but think she's not somebody I should distrust.

But they're controlling, too.

Jasper interferes with the chemicals in my brain far too much. There are times where I'm perfectly content wallowing in anxiety. Once he had gone hunting on his own for a couple of hours, and I felt myself withdrawing as if his mere presence had been drugging me into submission.

But I'm not overly offended by his emotional interference or even Alice's airtight grip on our futures. I don't think they realize their meddlesome attitudes are crude or unethical, and I suppose I can only take comfort in their naivety and use it to my own advantage.

However, I now have an additional _six_ vampires to remain wary of, and even more to come.

Lovely.

.

.

.

.

.

At dusk Irina and Laurent arrive, sauntering into the house with easy smiles. Yet when their eyes scale the faces of their family and friends and land on my own, Laurent's smile cools and Irina examines me curiously.

"Bella Swan?" Irina asks, approaching me. Her beauty, like her sisters, is obvious; her hair is a silvery blonde that barely reaches her chair, razor-thin and straight as a ruler. I rise to my feet and politely shake her hand, to which her smile finally reaches her eyes again. "Solid grip. How have you settled?"

"We've told her our life story," Tanya says, lounging lazily on a chaise alongside Carmen. Eleazer and Jasper stand a few feet away from the living space, having been engrossed in a quiet conversation. Alice and Kate have gone to hunt and "gossip"—according to Kate, of course.

"Yikes," Irina says. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"No, it was… Well, it was something else." I smile mirthfully and Irina and Tanya both share a soft laugh.

"You should've seen her squirm when I started talking about our adventures with human men," Tanya jokes, winking at me.

Laurent chimes in then, his tone cordial, "I'm sorry for their behavior, Bella." With his hands clasped together behind his back, he bows his head slightly in greeting. "I'm Laurent. We _have_ met before but I've heard of your situation, so I would like to formally introduce myself again."

Laurent is tall and has a darker hue to his skin than even Carmen and Eleazer. A mop of glossy black curls rests atop his head, and I detect French connotations in his accent. I immediately understand why Irina is attached to him. His disposition, albeit as purposefully composed and reserved as my own, is also one of modesty.

I bite my bottom lip, suppressing the urge to bombard him with a nightmarish amount of questions about Victoria. Instead I pluck a single one from my head and quietly ask, "How well were you acquainted with Victoria?"

Irina's smile wavers and I can sense Jasper's intense gaze on my face.

Despite the tension that fills the room, Laurent answers with a serene smile on his handsome face. "I felt it safer at the time to travel with several companions. I never bonded with Victoria or James as I have with Irina or her coven, and I was deeply troubled when James decided to bring you and your loved ones harm. So I left and found salvation." He smirks at Irina to which she rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless.

"Your eyes are red," I state plainly, confused.

Irina's expression sours. "We're working on it."

"It's not easy, you see," Laurent explains, arching an eyebrow in response to my blunt remark. "Although as a newborn I'm sure you know of the struggle."

My throat suddenly feels even drier than ever. "Yeah…"

Jasper clears his own throat, interrupting us. "Bella," he calls, "would you like to hunt?"

"Yes."

We journey from the house in record time, neither of us sharing a single word. As I follow a few steps behind Jasper, my thoughts turn to Laurent's commentary on Victoria and her mate.

Had Victoria lied about James and his demise? It appears so. Even her former companion has disputed her claims, and why would he have reason to feed me lies? Despair threatens to envelope me as I consider that my time with Victoria had been a carefully constructed fantasy.

But if I had been a mere "game" to her as Jasper and Alice had suggested, then why had she kept me alive for so long and why had she abandoned me—if, indeed, she had abandoned me—in the end? Had my "allure" come to bore her?

My bottom lip quivers as tears I cannot shed attempt to surface.

Pretending that I have not been shattered as my mind begins to unscramble the mess that I have found myself in, I instead recenter my focus on Edward.

Once again an intense sensation rocks my core and comes to life inside of my heart, but as my admiration of Victoria it sent into a frenzy a new and horrifying feeling accompanies my hateful and strong memory of Edward.

Affection.

.

.

.

.

.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows. I appreciate your interest in this story like you wouldn't believe! For those of you wondering: Victoria will absolutely continue to play a major role in Bella's life as she tries to piece together her memories, and at times it may venture into Victoria/Bella territory but there are reasons for which I hope you understand if you were to see it from Bella's POV. And I'm going to take the whole "frozen mentality" tidbit about vampires seriously, so don't be troubled by how Bella regards Edward or acts around him. Well, you should be, but it's not all terrible. **This story, above all else, is about** _ **healing**_ **and self-reflection in the face of trauma.**


	6. Alaska

Jasper has left me to my own devices—that being a reindeer whose curved antlers I'm currently admiring. Surprisingly it disturbs me to consume animals whereas hunting humans— _immoral_ human men, of course—had been as easy as breathing. The reindeer's eyes are black and lifeless, and its torso has sunken in. Its companions had fled, abandoning their own at the first sight of danger.

It's such a majestic creature with lovely coloring. In a way I envy animals—they're not burdened by "right" or "wrong." For them you're either predator or prey, and living life means surviving its trials and tribulations as the gods have intended. There's no room for self-pity or questions about the afterlife, politics, and so forth. You eat, sleep, and die; lather, rinse, repeat.

A lion doesn't fuss when it has sunk its large teeth into a hyena, and a hyena doesn't think to itself, "How could you? I had children!" No, a hyena submits and contemplates the error that had caused its predicament. "Had I been too slow? Had I taken that turn too sharply? Should I have sensed danger?" After all when you're not at the top of the food chain, you should expect to cross paths with an apex predator.

I wonder what a human thinks when they've been cornered by a vampire?

"But I have a family!" An ugly, balding man had shouted when Victoria had clutched his neck with her bare hands and squeezed.

"So did your victim," she had retorted, her tone a lazy drawl.

I turn the memory over and over in my head, examining it at every angle. Had Victoria truly cared about the human women who had been brutalized by our _own_ male victims? Or had she played on my weakness, my ever-present disgust for the man who had broken my gentle human heart?

Bitterly I consider Edward and my current dilemma.

I _care_ for him.

If I pry into the fog shrouding my past, I catch glimpses of him and his enthralling smile and the golden-red mess of hair on his head.

I can smell dandelions and I can hear the buzzing of bees.

The vision of the meadow—the place where Alice and Jasper had discovered me—makes me feel lighthearted and deliriously happy.

And yet as I indulge these feelings of adoration and longing, the barriers surrounding my memories start to tremble.

I close my eyes and suddenly I'm transported to an earlier time: Salt water rushes into my lungs and my small body crumbles against a hard wall of water. Distinctly I hear a _CRACK_!

"Bella?"

My eyes fly open and I whip around, startled to find Jasper at the edge of treeline. He steps forward from around a bush, his hands held up in mock surrender.

"Have you fed?"

"Yeah, a bit… I was just distracted."

He nods. "I could feel it."

Irritated, I find my shoulders tensing. "I'm fine with what I'm feeling right now," I warn.

"Bella—"

"No!" I bark, balling my hands into tight fists. "No, let me have my feelings, Jasper. Please, just… Just let me be me."

Jasper frowns. "I'm sorry, I never meant to cause you distress."

"I know," I sigh, guilted by the hurt expression on his face. Truly, I know. He means well. But it's distasteful, really. "But I'm not Alice. For some reason she's okay with what you do, but Jasper, I'm… I'm not. It's like taking away my free will, you know? I need to feel whatever it is I'm feeling if I want to really find myself."

"I understand. I apologize sincerely, Bella." He gestures to the carcass behind me. "Would you like company back to the house or are you fine by yourself?"

Pleased by the implication of being alone, I nod once at him and watch warily as he disappears on the nearby trail. Soon only his scent—sawdust and grass—lingers in the air, and I turn back to my meal, my craving for blood spilling into my stomach.

However, I never drain the animal.

I leave just enough to satisfy predators waiting impatiently in the darkness for me to leave the body. I imagine the meat is juicier and tastier with blood.

It's only fair.

.

.

.

.

.

After a month I've come to feel at home with Tanya and her coven. Her presence alone is hypnotic. She leads with authoritative but gracious words and has the elegance of a queen. Even Laurent, their newest member besides myself, seems perpetually drawn to her command.

Disagreements—which are often caused by Irina and Kate diverging in opinion on both important and trivial matters—are met with bureaucratic mediation by Tanya and quiet delegation by Eleazar and Carmen.

Tanya claims Irina has become much more reactive since meeting Laurent, although she holds no blame over Laurent's head. In fact she considers it a "welcome change."

"Love has made her blind," Kate sighs.

Irina is much less easier to pin down than her sisters. Although certainly as enchanting as Kate and Tanya, Irina is also lukewarm in her reception of me. Laurent states that he encountered similar behavior from her when they first met, but I'm inclined to believe these comments are meant to assuage my doubts rather than be factual.

"You remind her too much of Laurent's 'dark' past," Kate reveals on a chilly, beautiful day, lazily picking at her nails. "She already struggles with his bad habit, you see."

"That he eats people," I state plainly.

Tanya, flipping nonchalantly through a fashion magazine on the sofa beside me, lightly snorts.

"And she's much more invested in our appearance than all of us combined," Kate continues, her chin now perched on her closed fist as she stares at me from the floor where she sits cross-legged.

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you mean by that?"

"Laurent was associated with an enemy of the Cullens," Tanya says, never tearing her gaze away from the glossy magazine in her hands. "She doesn't want them thinking ill of her for choosing him as her lover."

"They're _mates_ , Tawnie," Kate corrects, although her voice drips with sarcasm.

Tanya throws her head back and laughs, surprising me.

"What now?" I demand.

"Nothing to burden yourself with," Kate replies smoothly.

"You don't think they're good for each other?"

Kate and Tanya share a quiet moment, seeming to read each other's expression, before Kate finally says, "We know that Irina loves Laurent with all her heart, but Laurent… Well, he seems…" She cocks her head, a thoughtful look passing across her face.

"He's a flight risk," Tanya finishes, tossing the magazine on the marble coffee table and turning her undivided attention to me.

"Do you trust him?" I ask quietly.

Kate scrunches up her nose and Tanya rolls her shoulders into a shrug.

"You don't know?" I press.

"We trust him _enough_."

Kate falls onto her back, hair spilling out around her head onto the fur rug. "Maybe we're just jealous we haven't found our own mates."

"Not at all," Tanya dismisses, rolling her eyes. "I'm simply worried for her."

"You both seem fine with your situation," I agree.

" _Situation…_ ," Kate echoes, her tone apathetic.

"By the way," Tanya starts, leaning closer to me. My eyes widen ever so slightly. "I understand you don't have your memories, but how does that work?"

My body tenses. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you remember how to ride a bike, right?"

I immediately pick up on what she's implying, and I try desperately to find a means to explain my own "situation" in a simple manner.

"It's like I can't see the big picture, you know. I know small details. I know what colors are. I can remember media and pop culture… _Most_ of the time, at least. ' _No, I am your father.'_ The Beatles. _Pride and Prejudice_. ' _My name is Inigo Montoya_.'" I pause to gather my thoughts, overwhelmed by the apprehension swelling in my chest. "But when I think of things that aren't outside of my peripheral vision, it's just all gone. I _barely_ remembered my name. I could remember my father. But then who was my mother? How old am I? When is my birthday? What was my first kiss like?" I start to feel restless as depression starts to sink its claws into my soul. "Did I have a sibling or a best friend? I know these silly, stupid, _mundane_ things but I can't even… I can't even remember what my mother looked like."

I fall limp in my seat, my shoulders hanging low and a shudder vibrating down my spine.

After a pregnant pause, Kate speaks up.

"I love _The Princess Bride_."

" _Kate_ ," Tanya hisses in warning, and then much to my astonishment, she curves her arm around my shoulders and presses me close to her side. "So your brain stored your big memories somewhere in the back but couldn't quite knock out the smaller ones. Hmm. I wonder why."

I wipe my eyes, although it is a pointless gesture.

"I wish I could cry," I admit, trembling slightly. "I feel so repressed."

"Maybe you hit your head when you fell," Kate says, sitting up. She slides closer and places her hands on my knees, her amber eyes glistening with compassion. "It can't all be lost forever. That doesn't make sense."

"But what if it is?" I question, despairing at the very thought of it—of never regaining my lost memories. "I hate feeling so lost."

"But you're not alone," Kate pushes, clasping my hand with her own in a firm grip. Tanya's arm tightens around my shoulders. It's as if they're afraid I'll cut loose and float away.

They're anchoring me.

The weight of their tenderness envelopes me in warmth.

"I know you're nervous about the Cullens," Tanya discloses, massaging my upper arm when I start to stiffen, "but perhaps their presence will guide you home to your memories. Jasper has told us how you feel about Edward, Bella."

I scowl. "He doesn't know anything."

"He says when anybody says Edward's name, you feel heartbroken beyond reason. But Bella, he also says you start to positively glow as well.

"Edward never intended to break your heart," Tanya continues, leaning her head against my shoulder. I can barely focus on her words. My head buzzes with confusion and my heart threatens to burst open. "He came here once when you were human. He had just met you, and yet you had thrown his whole world upside down."

"I'd never seen him so unraveled before," Kate adds.

I clench my eyes shut, wishing to be anywhere but here. "I can't—I'm _afraid_."

"Your afraid he'll hurt you again?" Tanya shakes her head.

Kate smiles kindly at me. "Bella, every decision Edward has ever made has been because he's in love with you. You're the moon pulling the tide. You're the sun illuminating the earth. You're the North Star connecting the galaxy. You're everything to Edward."

Tanya's even _more_ eager to affirm Kate's romantic statement. "You don't have to forgive him immediately. Hell, you can wait a hundred years before you forgive him. Nobody could blame you. He was reckless and selfish and there were dire consequences."

I clench my jaw. " _Very_ dire."

"But don't try and convince yourself he doesn't love you."

"Because that's absolute madness," Kate declares.

"There is no reality in which Edward Cullen is not in love with Bella Swan."

With the final nail in the coffin, I begin crying tearless sobs, my whole body quivering. I place my head in my hands, my fingers clutching my hair and my shoulders shaking.

Kate wordlessly strokes my knee.

Tanya is placid by my side, one hand resting on my shoulder.

It's only when Alice and Jasper return—two hours later, well-fed and in good spirits—that I collect myself. With Tanya and Kate at my side, I focus my attention on the pair with a stoic expression ironed onto my face. Kate and Carmen soon join the room, followed by Laurent and Irina after.

The atmosphere is thick with unease, but I persist.

"I'm ready for you to tell the Cullens I'm alive."

Alice beams, although Jasper is less convinced. "Are you certain?"

I nod firmly at him, my arms crossed. "Yes."

"It's going to be awkward," Carmen states, exhaling softly.

A smile tugs at Eleazar's mouth. "It certainly will be. But we'll be with you, Bella."

"How will they react?" Tanya inquires, turning her gaze to Alice exclusively.

The raven-haired vampire's eyes shift, and as we observe her passive face, I am the first to speak up, my tone abrasive. "Let me go in blind. I don't want any expectations. I'm already freaked out enough as it is." I nod my head at Jasper, determination settling in my veins. "Call them. Don't wait. Just go for it."

.

.

.

.

.

Two minutes later, Jasper greets Carlisle warmly over the phone. He then hands the phone to Alice, seemingly unprepared for the task.

Alice, eternally bright-eyed and eager, says, "Carlisle, we have a, uh, _situation_ here. Please hear me out. It's about Bella."

Her eyes widen and she recoils visibly.

"Oops," she whispers to us, horror in her eyes.

My arms fall to my sides and it's immediate to me where her dismay has come from.

Tanya, too, catches on. "Edward's there, isn't he?"

"We should've used Alice's visions," Kate sighs.

Carme covers her mouth with her hand.

"She's fine, Edward," Alice assures, her voice frantic, "but you have to know…"

"He should still be in Europe," Jasper grinds out, annoyed.

I observe their individual reactions closely, too afraid to recenter my focus on my own feelings on the matter. What will Edward have to say?

"She had an accident a few years ago, and she was hurt bad." Alice rings her fingers through her hair, and I realize it's the first time I've seen her _truly_ distressed. "We found her though. I broke my promise. I know." Frustration plants itself on her face and her eyes narrow. "I'm sorry, but I had to find her. She's… Well, it's hard to explain."

Jasper holds out his hand and Alice wordlessly drops the phone in his open palm, pinching her temple.

"Edward, it's Jasper. It's quite simple, really."

Each of us step closer—even me—eager to hear Edward's response.

"Bella is a vampire, Edward. And we've been with her for a couple of months now here in Denali."

It seems like an eternity before Edward's voice nearly shatters the receiver.

.

.

.

.

.

Five hours after we've spoken to Edward (and the remaining Cullen family), I'm sitting still as a statue on the back porch, my eyes trained closely on the gorgeous view. Kate has offered tips on meditation. All of them have left me alone on my request.

 _He'll_ be here in seven hours—five have passed so far. According to Jasper, Edward had originally been holed up somewhere in Germany, but he had decided to return to Carlisle and Esme in New York as the new season approached. The patriarch and matriarch, of course, will be arriving alongside their redheaded "son."

As of now Rosalie and Emmett will touch down from Ireland in Fairbanks, Alaska, in eighteen hours. From what I've gathered in conversations between Jasper and Alice, Rosalie is "deeply unhappy."

I had refused to speak to Edward on the phone.

"It'd be better to explain in person, Edward, but Bella has lost her memories of you."

I had opened my mouth to protest—to remind Jasper that I could remember _all_ of the emotions surrounding the circumstances of our dissolved relationship, but Jasper had shot me a warning look and I had wisely shut my mouth.

"He doesn't need to know that you think you hate and love him at the same time," Alice had said, shaking her head disapprovingly at me after the phone call had ended.

"We're going to allow him time to process what has happened."

In the meantime I have to figure out what I'm going to say to him.

"Why did you leave to die?"

No. That's far too theatrical.

"According to everybody _ever_ , my creator wanted me dead. So why did you leave me and my father defenseless?"

Okay. It's accurate but still deeply dramatic.

Exhaling, I ring my fingers through my hair. "Charlie…"

"What about Charlie?" Alice collapses in the chair beside me, her mood light and breezy. Of course.

"I miss him."

Alice smiles sympathetically. "He misses you too."

My eyes widen and I turn my head to gaze at her fully, my mouth agape. "How do you know?"

"Jasper and I returned to Forks because we missed you terribly and none of us could handle Edward's absence anymore," Alice begins, leaning back against the chair. "It's when we learned that you supposedly died. We spoke to Charlie. He's…. He's handling things. He spends a lot of time fishing. He's thrown himself into his work harder than ever."

"Oh." I lower my gaze, my heart aching. "But I never asked: How did you even find me?"

"When Victoria took you, she had been confronted by—well, it's strange. It seems as a human you had befriended a werewolf."

I gasp, absolutely flummoxed. "Really? Victoria told me about werewolves. She said they're feral and dangerous and _ugly_."

Alice shrugs. "That's accurate."

"She told me to run as fast as I could if I ever spotted one, but she said that it was unlikely."

"It's extremely rare," she agrees, crossing her legs. "But when she was confronted by the wolves, she took you and jumped off a cliff. You know the rest. Your doggy friend had led us to a trail and then we chased it around a bit. I started looking for you in the future, but I could never see you. Occasionally I'd see the side of a building or a set of train tracks, and then finally I saw a specific tree only indigenous to certain areas. It's like you were never making decisions. And then suddenly— _BAM!_ You were everywhere." _  
_  
"It's probably when I ended up alone," I say, glancing at her. "Victoria made sure of we never really thought anything out. And we stayed as far away from human cities as possible."

Alice scowls. Rage hardens her eyes. "How did she know to avoid my power?"

I frown. "I don't know. Maybe when you all got rid of James?"

"No, she couldn't have possibly known." Alice stands abruptly, anger laced in her voice. "Somebody told her."

"What? Alice, maybe she just liked living life on the edge?" I don't bother telling Alice that I, too, suspect Victoria had been sidestepping her visions. Alice isn't stupid. I shouldn't even bother trying to combat her suspicions. "Okay, let's say it's true. But who could've—"

"Bastard." Alice is snarling now, her entire body positively radiating an ugly anger.

"Who?"

Jasper comes sprinting onto the porch then, sliding me a quick quizzical glance before placing both of his hands on Alice's shoulders. "What's wrong, darling?"

"Victoria had been aware of my power and its limitations while she traveled with Bella."

A grim look settles on Jasper's face.

I step forward, frustrated by her sudden change in mood. "Who could've told her?"

But speaking those words aloud, the answer materializes in plain sight. I want to bash myself over the head. How could I have never considered it before? For all my supposed caution and detective work, I never thought to question where Victoria's knowledge of Alice's gift had come from.

Victoria and the Denali coven did, after all, have a mutual ally.

I suppose Tanya and Kate were correct in their wariness of Irina's "mate."


	7. False Impression

The place I've come to call home has now become a prison—and I, myself, am a prisoner awaiting my execution.

Dusk has settled on the horizon, painting the snowy expanse a dull grey. I've remained seated on the porch while Alice and Jasper have retreated back into the house, their anger and disappointment palpable.

I should be concerned about the revelation concerning Laurent—if, in fact, it's true and not mere speculation—but instead I'm too preoccupied with my own mess of emotions.

What will happen when I lay eyes on Edward?

A strong urge insists that I strike him hard across the face with my open palm, and tell him in gory detail the horror of my transformation and the agony of my missing memories.

However, a disgusting need to wrap my arms around his body and never let go also battles for dominance.

What will he think of Isabella Swan, a newborn vampire with a damaged brain and a lust for human blood that will surely challenge his morals? Will his family welcome me as Tanya and her coven have? Or will they search desperately for Bella Swan in the remnants of her now cold and immortal body? Alice and Jasper certainly do.

I'm no longer Bella Swan, but the woman I've come to know—Isabella Swan—who had been crafted by her sire's vision has also disappeared.

With a groan, I fling myself from the porch chair and dart toward the forest.

Blood calls to me.

"I'll be back," I say, nodding once at Kate who eyes me quizzically from the front doors. "I promise."

.

.

.

.

.

I've lost track of time during the hunt. It's only after I've drained a moose or two (or three) that my mind catches up to my predatory instincts and I come to a halt in a sprawl of trees. Blood has seeped into my blouse, and dirt cakes my jeans and boots.

Heaving a sigh, I sink to the ground, legs crossed, and tip my head back. Too afraid to return to the house, I instead count the stars peppering the dark sky. My eyes shift frantically back and forth, and with each number my hands tighten into fists.

It'd be easy to run and never look back.

I could run blindly for miles and miles, never truly searching for a destination. Every mile that I place between myself and _him_ would be the only decision I needed.

My stomach somersaults.

If I was human I would definitely be vomiting right about now.

The peace of mind I attempt to attain flees then as my ears zero in on an approaching sound. _Footsteps_. My nostrils flare as an unfamiliar scent trickles into my nose. A low warning hiss whistles through my clenched teeth.

"It's alright," Jasper says, Alice close at his side. They come into view then, their expressions devoid of any emotion.

"I was going to come back," I cry, now worried that my fleeting thought had crossed paths with Alice's gifts. "I was just hungry!"

"We know," Alice whispers, approaching me at a slow pace. "We just wanted to—" She shuts her mouth and closes her eyes; to her right Jasper shakes his head disapprovingly, although he's glaring at something—or somebody—behind me.

" _Bella_?"

"Not like this," I vaguely hear Alice plead.

What sounds similar to white noise plays in my mind and rushes into my ears. Every single hair on my body stands up and a shiver slinks down my back. Suddenly I can hear everything in the forest, and yet nothing at all.

"Don't you have something to take care of?" I can hear myself whisper, gazing blankly at Alice and Jasper. "A Laurent problem, perhaps?"

"Bella." Alice tilts her head, her eyes somber. "We'd much rather be here for you right now."

I turn my eyes to Jasper, my voice low and emotionless. It's frankly a betrayal to the conflict raging in my heart, but for some bizarre reason I'm in complete control of myself. Is this shock? "Please go and take care of your problems. Please. I can handle… _this_ …"

Jasper observes me shrewdly while Alice bows her head, seemingly defeated.

After several prolonged seconds, Jasper answers, "Alright. Don't lose yourself."

"We won't be far," Alice whispers, shooting a glare at the _person_ still lingering behind me before taking her husband's hand and vanishing back into the thick breadth of trees.

The accumulation of sounds rise and then cut to a screeching halt. Abruptly the woods still, and the fear rolling around in my chest disperses.

It's time to face my waking nightmare.

I exhale softly before murmuring a quiet, "Hello."

"Hello…" It's evident in _his_ tone that he's confused and hurt, but buried in those emotions I can hear longing laced in his voice. A bitter smile creeps onto my face. Sculpted from marble into a crystal beauty, _now_ he's suddenly invested in me?

"You're Edward, I take it?"

I refuse to turn around.

After all who's to say what will occur when I meet his piercing gaze?

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"I'm told we have a, uh, past." _Keep it formal and polite, Bella._ For both of our sakes. "It's nice to meet you."

"You could say that."

God. His voice is what I imagine _silk_ to sound like if it were to ever speak. Pleasure rattles my bones, horrifying my rational senses. "I don't remember much," I offer, curving my foot to the right; an indication that I'm ready to turn and face the man who haunts my mind. "But I remember that you left me and that your family did too. I remember that your hair is a weird shade of red and brown."

He doesn't respond, not even after a minute has passed, and I question whether I should permit him the opportunity to see my face.

"I wish I could remember more," I continue, anger now digging its claws into my heart. How dare he ignore me? "I wish I knew more, you know? But instead I'm just… I don't know. I'm _nobody_ , really."

In spite of my conscience pleading with me to shut my _fucking_ mouth, the words just tumble out as clumsy and crude as ever.

"So I thank you for that, Edward Cullen."

My eyes widen when I realize what has happened the moment I finished speaking, and I whip around on my heel, my eyes searching frantically into the treeline.

But Edward is gone.

 _No_ , I think, outraged beyond reason. _No, you don't get to abandon me again._

And without hesitation, I follow him.

.

.

.

.

.

"You coward!"

"You can't run away like that!"

And finally: "I'm a newborn and I'm _faster_ than you!"

Edward stops and I come careening to a halt, my brown mane an absolute mess and my gold eyes as wide as porcelain plates.

He turns to face me and I suck in a deep breath.

Edward Cullen is as handsome as I had imagined he would be. He's lean, certainly not as tall as Jasper, but still rather tall. I deconstruct his arms, which are toned and long, and then his jaw—straight and angular. His lips, currently pressed into a firm line, are full. Without meaning to I lick my own lips.

A distant memory invites a lovely scent into my nose: dandelions.

"Bella," he says again, and I don't miss the way his eyes sweep below my neck; a button had come loose on my blouse, and cleavage peeks above the flannel material. Much to my surprise he immediately looks away, and even weirder I feel… _offended_? Carmen and Eleazer can practically devour one another with their eyes alone. What precisely am I to Edward Cullen?

"Are you okay?" I demand, surprising the both of us.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"You ran off like a bat out of hell!" I exclaim, flicking my hand dismissively.

"Well, I—"

"Look, I'm sorry I said some mean things, but I'm just kinda in a tough spot, you know?" I ring my fingers through my hair, willing my hands to stop trembling. "If anybody's gonna run, it's me, Edward."

He pinches his eyebrows together. "I am… confused."

"Join the club."

"By all indications from what _little_ I found in Jasper and Alice's thoughts, I thought you would be much angrier with me." His shoulders are taut and his body poised to defend himself.

I arch an eyebrow at him. "You thought I would physically hurt you?"

"More or less."

 _It's still on the table._ "Um, well… I don't know. Really. I don't know a lot of things." A dark chuckle rolls awkwardly off my tongue.

Edward's eyes are hard and black. "You're not what I expected and yet entirely the same."

"How so?" I tilt my head, intrigued. But more so than anything I want him to just _fully_ look at me—to drink me in. What does he think? His prior memory of me had been that of a fragile, sad girl with a shattered heart and girlish whims.

 _Girlish whims, huh? You've already given him the once over a few times now._

I quiet these thoughts, thankful that I'm immune to Edward's telepathic abilities.

"You surprise me. I've never been able to expect what you will do or say."

"Hmm." I adjust my blouse, pointedly watching him. Disappointingly he averts his attention to his feet before returning it back to my face after I've fixed my shirt. "Are you religious or something?" I blurt out.

Chagrined, Edward visibly recoils. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, you, uh… You act like even looking at a girl's ankles is wrong."

"Oh. I apologize."

"You…" My eyebrows come together and my brain scrambles to articulate my thoughts. "You apologize? For what?"

"I'm not entirely certain." He clenches and then clenches his fists.

Well. Carmen was correct. "This is awkward," I breathe out, my arms hanging limply on my hips. "I can't even be mad at you right now."

Edward's jaw twitches. "Why is that, Bella?"

God, I love how he says my name. It's worshipful; I feel like a deity.

"You're a bit _weird_."

If Edward could blush, I'm sure his cheeks would be tomato red right about now. "I—"

"If you apologize one more time, I'm gonna lost it."

He runs his long, slender fingers through his hair. "I really don't know what to say."

"It's not really a bad thing," I say, shrugging. "You're just really not what I expected."

He steps closer, and the careful space between us narrows considerably. I don't react in the slightest, although inside I'm screaming at the top of my lungs. Vibrations of pleasure start roaming the length of my body, pulsating from my abdomen and pooling into my veins; long-forgotten rhythms of eager devotion and lust sing to life.

"What did you expect, Bella?"

"I thought…" I place my fingers in my mouth, prepared to chew on my nails, but Edward gently wraps his fingers around my wrist and places my hand firmly back at my side.

 _What a strange habit_ , Alice had once said when I had chewed on my fingernails during a particularly nerve-wracking episode of self-doubt. _It's ridiculously human._

"You don't have to be nervous," Edward promises. He flexes his fingers as if touching me had been a physical strain.

"I thought you'd be this dark, mean beast," I admit, a small laugh spilling from my mouth and breathing comfort into tension idling between us. "Instead you're just as awkward and nervous as me."

"I missed you," he whispers, the yearning in his voice practically begging for me to answer to it. "I'll move heaven and earth if it means earning your forgiveness."

"There's not much to forgive when I can't even remember you."

Anguish takes shape on his face; his eyes are coal-black and his posture is rigid. "You remember enough to recognize that I've made a grievous mistake. I never should have left you."

"I was just a human," I say, trying to seem nonchalant and failing spectacularly. My nerves are stretched tight as piano wire. "It was just all good fun to you, I'm sure."

"Why would you say that?" Edward questions incredulously, his eyebrows pulled together. "I never thought of you as some sort of…"

"Sick game?" I offer, my eyebrows rising.

He shakes his head, fuming. "Ridiculous. Absolute insanity."

Again my conscience speaks up, arrogant and suffocating: _He did hop on a plane and come flying over to you the moment he realized you were alive._

We've established Victoria has lied and irrevocably broken my trust.

The Cullens are manipulative: That had been her claim, at least.

It's not entirely untrue, too. Alice would swerve me left if it meant preventing me from stepping on a pinecone. But what are the consequences of stepping on a pinecone? Scuffed boot soles? Even banal actions are meticulously picked apart by her premonitions, and Jasper's more than complacent in emotionally medicating her when her neurotic behavior starts to unravel at the seams.

 _But they consented to you the moment you said no_ , my conscience adds.

Their behavior may have been unintentionally cruel, but it had still be _cruel_.

I'm treading a tightrope.

"I don't want to alarm you or complicate anything further," Edward says, leaning toward me. I refuse to shrink away, although I caution my wicked desires back in the furthest corner of my heart. "I'll be patient with you even if it takes a century—even if you find you don't return my feelings."

I fold my arms over my chest. "Are you saying you'll let me be if I choose?"

"I'm happy to learn who you are now," he says, a slight tremor in his voice, "and I'm also more than happy to help you rediscover your past. But if you don't want anything to do with me, then I'll leave you be."

My complexion drains of color. "You'll _leave_?"

"I won't leave my family again. I swear. But if you want distance from me, I will grant it."

Why are the Cullens and their allies so absurdly cordial?

Suddenly I find myself missing Victoria's passionate essence. Living with her had been like living with my toes too close to a bonfire; the embers scorching my legs and licking up my skin. It was painful, and yet it had ignited every sense dwelling inside of my cold body.

She may have been lying since the exact moment my eyes had flushed crimson and my flesh hardened into diamond, but she had also been as ferocious as a storm. Victoria never shied away from our carnal nature nor had she concealed her raw persona behind amiable smiles or talks of "family" or psychic forces.

"How'd you accomplish it?" I murmur, my thoughts too crowded and jarring.

"What do you think I accomplished?"

"I've seen Carmen and Eleazer," I press, my hands caressing my own arms while I recall the honey-skinned lovers' erotic embrace that I had had the misfortune of stumbling upon. Her leg had curled around his hips, beckoning him closer. It wasn't purely sex; it was a love so supreme that they were melting into one another, their souls connecting on a much higher plane. "Carmen would never leave Eleazer and Eleazer would never leave Carmen. _Never_. I think they'd self-combust if they ever separated. So how did you leave me?"

"I had reasons that, in hindsight, were foolish and selfish. I thought I could protect you. I didn't want you to lose your soul."

I tremble at his words; a blanket of darkness flows over me, and even darker impulses throb in my heartstrings. "You _are_ religious." Shaking my head, I glare accusingly at him. "You don't think I have a _soul_?"

Edward flinches. "I thought—no, I believe you have a soul, but at the time, I—I was ignorant."

"You can't even say what you mean," I scoff. "You're fumbling with your words. Just say it, _Edward_." His name is crisp on my tongue. I want to taste him in my mouth and I want to crack him open. "You don't think you have a soul and you don't think I do either, huh?"

"I've made terrible mistakes," he argues, cringing at my rising temper. "I've taken human lives—"

"You're a vampire!" I yell, startling Edward. "It's what we do! You can't impose human morals on yourself when _you're not human_." I smooth both my hands through my hairs, my fingers tugging brown locks straight out of my scalp. "You're a fanatic." I then perch my palms on his chest, momentarily memorizing the corded muscles patterning in his torso. "I've killed humans for sustenance before I met Alice and Jasper. And do you know what? I don't regret it."

Distress lurks within Edward's black orbs. "How can you not regret it?"

"It's in the past," I reply, vexed by his tortured gaze. "We're timeless, you know. _Forever_. I can either worry about who Bella Swan was and what she would've thought, or I can embrace who I am now. I'll try to keep this 'vegetarian' diet of yours, but I won't apologize for what I've done before."

"But you want your memories back."

"I do." I tilt my head, sneaking a glimpse at his shoulders—slender but hard. "I feel whole without them, I think, but I also still feel lost. It's hard to explain." My hands smooth up the length of his arms and rest on his shoulders. "Now tell me: Do you or do you not think that I have a soul? You definitely have a soul. I mean. You feel bad about drinking human blood, so that seems pretty soul-like to me."

Why am I comforting the man who let the ocean devour me? The tart taste of salt swells on my tongue. I'm folding into myself again, becoming somebody else entirely. Is this who Bella Swan was? The salty aftertaste of the sea floods my senses.

"All I care about is you," Edward answers, curling his own hands through mine. My spine straightens. "You're not really the same anymore."

My lips twitch. A sour smile slinks onto my mouth. "It bothers you."

"I'll love you regardless."

"There's no regardless." I wonder if my irises are as dark as his? "You don't get to love me 'regardless,' Edward."

"I'll love you _entirely_. Forever."

"Because you have to." I attempt to pry my hands free, but he tightens his grip. It's harsh, but I can't say I hate it. "You feel guilty and you think you can 'fix' me," I probe, tossing bait his way.

Truthfully I want him to detest me. I want him to drop my hands and shake his head in disgust at the very sight of me. I'm a murderer unburdened by guilt—except for the little girl and her shrill cries. A shudder trembles through my limbs.

He came for Bella Swan, but she's not here.

And I followed hoping to discover the barbaric creature who fractured her heart, but he's not here—in fact he never was. It was an imagined figment of a piece to a puzzle that never existed.

The thick fog enveloping my mind starts to erode at the edges. I cling to the meadow—the scent of wildflowers and the humming of gentle birds—and to my father's old, worn face.

Whoever _that_ was whom I had conjured at the cusp of my transformation—the Edward with a feral smile and dangerous eyes and a sadistic sneer—disintegrates into ashes.

"I hated you and it turns out it was for nothing."

"You can hate me as long as you desire."

I shake my head. My eyes sting. "It was the only thing keeping me around. I think it was what—what tethered me to my lost memories."

Edward Cullen is not a nightmare or a hateful figure from my past. He's the last piece my mind held onto as all else crumbled to dust. Now he too is slipping away; the hate I had imagined slinks away into the darkness of my amnesia.

The sense of loss I had once felt is incomprehensible to the agony weighing down upon my soul.

I have nothing but my meadow and my father left now.

"I don't really know who you are," I admit, nearly slumping to the ground. Snow and leaves crackle under my boots.

Edward slinks his arm around my waist, propping me on my feet. "And I don't appear to know much about you either. But it's going to be alright."

"I thought you hated me," I whimper, my head limp; my forehead falls against his chest. He runs his free hand kindly down my back. "I thought you left me to die… and Victoria played on that ignorance. I'm sorry. I don't know you at all."

His entire body stiffens. "Victoria?"

"I fell," I explain, lifting my head and gazing at Edward. "I fell off a cliff. I think it was fatal. My brain must've latched onto whatever I was feeling 'cos all I could remember was… loneliness and heartache. And Victoria brought me back, you see. She, uh—well, she planted this idea in my head. It sorta infected me like a virus: That you and your family were monsters."

"So you're mind just filled in the blanks," he concludes, anger laced into his voice.

"Maybe." I straighten my back and pull away from Edward then. "Or maybe that's what I thought of you when I was human. We'll probably never know. Alice doesn't remember anything either."

"You're not Alice."

"But I'm not Bella either. At least I don't think I am."

Edward's shoulders sag. "No, there are parts of you I can see, and then there's a stranger." Surprisingly a lopsided smile tugs at his mouth. "It doesn't matter. I love you, Bella. And even if I didn't, I'd fall in love with you all over again."

My teeth fall down on my lower lip. "Um, that's a lot… to take in. Edward, I'm not sure."

"Take your time. If you want to be my friend, then I will be your friend."

"How were we even together?" I tilt my head. "I don't get. You're all spiritual bullshit and stuff about 'souls' and all of these intense feelings. I don't think about any of that. I just— _am_." My eyes widen at the implication of my comment. "I'm not stupid, I mean. I think about the larger things in life. I've been reading Tanya's library and I'm especially curious about human anatomy and medical jargon and—"

"It's fine," Edward laughs, cautions me with his hand; I firmly close my mouth. "You were intelligent and thoughtful when I knew you. You're still thoughtful and intelligent. But you're right: We had our differences."

My mind wanders back to Carmen and Eleazer, and I swallow hard once before asking, "Did we ever…?"

His eyebrows fly up and a sheepish expression passes over his face. "No. No, that wasn't _practical_."

"But Tanya and Kate… I know how they are with human men."

Edward blanches. "How much do you know? Have you—I wouldn't be angry if…"

My face, too, pales. " _NO_! I couldn't ever imagine—God, no, Edward! I'm still not stable around humans and also I've never much given thought to, uh, those types of _feelings_."

Until now, of course. I'm drawn to Edward. In that brief moment we spent cradling one another, his embrace comforting and strong, it seemed as if we fit perfectly. Our bodies curved insync with each other.

But I'm not ready to open myself up to Edward in such a intimate manner. I can't permit him the knowledge of knowing _all_ of me when I'm still learning myself.

And even though I'm sure I'm a virgin, I can recognize that sex between Edward and I would not be a trivial affair or basic instinct.

It would be galaxy-ending.

"Tanya, Kate, and Irina have been alive for thousands of years," Edward states, defending himself against my allegation. "I'm still fairly young for a vampire. And your human scent was… It's difficult to describe. It was intoxicating."

Hmm. That's strange. "You wanted to eat me?"

He rubs the back of his head. " _Somewhat_."

"Why didn't you?"

"I have quite a bit of self-control. I didn't want to harm you, especially considering I was curious and wanted to know more about you."

I quip my eyebrow. "The mindreading thing, huh? So what if you could've read my mind? Would you have eaten me then?"

"You're asking the wrong questions."

"Oh. Yeah, it's inappropriate." I sheepishly kick a twig out of the way. "Sorry."

"You never have to apologize. Your curiosity is welcoming. You were always unusual with your questions and comments."

"Tanya says I'm too perceptive and that I ask too much questions."

Edward smiles. "It's true."

"So we haven't, um, done anything together, but have _you_ ever had sex?"

Oh, I wish vampires could flush. Edward would be positively radiating. "No."

 _Wow._ "How long have you been alive—human and vampire years combined?" I demand, flummoxed.

"I was born on the twentieth of June in 1901, and I was changed in late September of 1918."

I swoon at my feet. " _God_ , Edward."

"What?" He's squirming now, his hands balled into fists.

"You're not like a vampire _at_ _all_."

"I was raised a gentleman," he argues, seemingly defenseless against my interrogation. "We didn't bed women we weren't married to."

I cover my mouth, stifling my laughter. "Do you hear yourself? Edward. You. Are. A. Vampire."

"And as vampires we mate for life," Edward counters, shooting me a glare. I continue to chuckle in spite of myself. "What would be the point in sleeping with women when I would potentially find my mate? I can't imagine the sex would compare or matter in the end."

"So I guess you have a lot of pent up energy."

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Can we stop discussing my sex life?"

"We're not discussing it because it doesn't _exist_."

 _Yet._ I could punch myself out right about now. In fact I can't say I'm displeased by this revelation. If Edward and I were to become intimate, it would mean he's entirely mine. Electricity buzzes in my veins at the image of exploring uncharted territory: Edward's body.

"I thought I hated you," I laugh, lightheaded and deliriously cheery, "but you're just too funny, Edward. I really want to get to know more of you."

"I'm glad we can be friends. When you followed me I thought—I was wary."

I toss him a playful smile before turning on my heel. "Let's head back, okay? This was enlightening."

I don't bother saying anything more as I sprint through the forest, letting my senses guide me home to Tanya and her abode, and now the Cullen "parents" I had learned about in my time here. Carlisle is the most peculiar to me: A vampire with a career as a doctor?

These Cullens are maddening.

"Keep up," I call over my shoulder, my feet light on the ground. Alaskan creatures duck away from the speedy predators careening through the forest, and I cock my head to the side, listening intently for Edward's presence.

"Always."

I nearly stumble and fall as I steer my wide-eyed gaze to my side, spotting Edward flanking my left; his golden-red hair is tousled and for once his smile reaches his eyes.

I could get used to Edward Cullen.

.

.

.

.

.

Edward and I enter the house quietly. I manage one step through the front door before Kate swoops in and wraps her arms around my small frame.

"I told you she wouldn't kill him," Kate giggles, beaming.

"Hello, Edward," Tanya greets, sidestepping her sister and curling her arms around Edward. He kisses her cheek chastely and I bristle.

Kate clamps her hand on Tanya, startling the Denali matriarch. They share a glance before staring peculiarly at me. Tanya then rolls her eyes and rests her hand gently on my shoulder, causing me to relax.

"You've been out there _one_ hour, Bella, and you've already claimed him? Oh, my love, you're quite the romantic."

Kate's laughter bounces off the walls.

Edward, clearing his throat politely, interjects, "Where is everybody?"

"I figured you would've read my thoughts," Tanya answers, her tone low and somber. Our breezy greeting is interrupted by the sudden shift in atmosphere.

I glance nervously at Edward. "What's happened with Laurent?"

"Alice and Jasper informed us about Laurent's potential deception," Tanya explains, scowling at each of us. Her displeasure is palpable. "Irina and Laurent have still not returned, and Carmen, Eleazer, Carlisle, and Jasper have decided to find them. We stayed here with Alice and Esme to wait for you."

"And to act as a bodyguard in case you pummeled Edward," Kate adds, her voice humorless.

"What will happen with Laurent?" I question, my anxiety peaking. I fiddle with my fingers; Edward grasps my hand, although his eyes remain trained on Tanya and Kate.

"We'll allow him a chance to defend himself."

A low growl rumbles in Edward's chest. "And if I read his thoughts and realize what he's done? He jeopardized Bella's safety."

"We understand, Edward," Tanya interrupts, standing taller. I try to slink away, but Edward's hold doesn't budge. "He volleyed information to a woman who intended to harm Bella. But who knows what Victoria had said? She may have threatened him. He may have felt that Victoria was harmless and permitting her information was harmless by extension. There are several reasons he could have and it's not use for us to stand here and debate them without hearing them from Laurent _directly_."

"Nobody could've predicted what happened to Bella," Kate agrees, although her voice is devoid of the same conviction found in Tanya's speech.

"Isn't he mated with Irina?" Edward asks, exasperated.

"She loves him," I say, interjecting, "but we don't really know how much he loves her."

Tanya is unyielding. "Edward, you may read his mind when they return. But Laurent will be given a free trial and a platform to plead his case. Regardless the outcome is the same: He will not be permitted access to our family. Intentional or not, his _alleged_ grievances have affected Bella and all of us."

"But— _Irina_ ," I stammer.

Tanya's jaw twitches. "Irina is free to stay or to join Laurent. She may even continue her relationship with him, but he will not be allowed within miles of our home."

"I shouldn't have come here, I'm sorry," I cry, her words sinking into my chest.

Kate softly caresses my cheek. "It's alright, Bella. It's not your fault."

"Stop shouldering the blame for events beyond your control," Tanya states roughly before nodding once at Edward and slipping through the front door.

"What was that?" I ask Edward.

"She told me to listen closely to Laurent's thoughts when he comes back."

"What if he runs?"

"Then it's the trash taking itself out," Kate says flippantly. "Oh, Esme is with Alice on the porch. Alice is looking into the future in case anything turns sour. Not that we're worried," she adds, noticing my timid disposition. "Laurent is _one_ vampire, Bella, and he's far from dangerous. He's just misguided."

I shake my head, trying to repel the waves of terror—and, secretly, _yearning_ —that crash over me as I consider my thoughts.

Laurent isn't dangerous, but Victoria is. The Cullens aren't aware that Victoria is, quite probably, still alive. What will become of Victoria if it comes to light that she was never destroyed as I had said?

Afraid, I push away from Edward and wordlessly tread toward the patio.

 _I need Alice._

"She's a pistol," I hear Kate say.

Edward is burning a hole into my back as if he can sense my deceptive feelings.

.

.

.

.

.

A curvy women with caramel-colored curls is sitting beside Alice, holding the black-haired woman's hands in her own. She peels her concerned eyes away from Alice and grins widely at me; her scent is all peach and fresh linen.

"Hello," I greet, extending my hand. "You're Esme, right?"

Esme rises lithely to her feet and warmly clasps my hand in both of her hands. "Yes. Oh, Bella, it's good to see you again."

 _Again?_ "I'm sorry, I don't know if you heard, but—"

"I'm aware, Bella," Esme says, cocking her head to the side. "I'm still overjoyed that you're with us again. You're quite lovely to look at."

"Laurent is evading me," Alice says from her seat, her unseeing eyes lingering on the horizon.

"On purpose?" Esme draws her eyebrows together and returns to her position beside the petite seer.

"I'm not sure. He left for a hunting trip with Irina after we rang Edward, but I think he realized Edward may read his mind and decided to just bail. God knows what he has told Irina to drag her along."

I collapse beside Alice and draw my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. "Do you think he's going to hurt Irina?"

"I don't believe so. He _does_ care about her even though he has betrayed her. But he'll seek shelter elsewhere if he thinks we mean to harm him."

"But we don't?" I stare at Alice, puzzled. "Tanya said—"

"I trust Tanya, Irina, and Kate to keep him unharmed in the event he admits what he's done. But Edward is less predictable in Laurent's eyes."

Esme sighs. "Edward would never disregard Tanya's orders, Alice."

"I know," Alice retorts. "But Laurent saw what happened to Edward when James became a threat to Bella. Laurent knows what Edward is capable of when Bella's safety has been compromised."

"I'm safe." I nudge Alice's side with my elbow. "I'm not exactly an easy target anymore."

"Yes, but you're also a vampire. Your transformation was traumatic and you became the very thing Edward didn't want."

 _He didn't desire me before anyway_. "I'm what—damned to this life so Laurent's now an enemy? That's silly."

"Truly."

Esme and I look over our shoulders to stare at Edward. He gazes apologetically at me and Esme before glaring haughtily at Alice's back. "Alice, stop filling Bella's head with nonsense. I'm happy that she's here with me. That's all."

"Laurent may think otherwise."

"Maybe we can reassure him that we're not gonna hurt him?" I pipe up.

"Two separate vampire covens whispering reassurances into his ear as he enters the house defenseless—and a few years after several us had dismembered his ally for even looking at you wrong, among other crimes? Right."

"She's offering suggestions, Alice" Edward says in a warning tone, striding over to me and letting his hand rest on my shoulder. Instinctively I lace my fingers through his. I should apologize for rejecting his touch a few minutes ago, but I feel in my heart that he's already grown accustomed to my "moods."

"This is a stressful situation for all of us," Esme agrees, her smile impossibly kind.

"Why would he betray Irina's trust like that?" I memorize the snowy horizon, the mountains and hills that disrupt the straight line of grey and white terrain. "Didn't he care for her even a _little_ bit?"

"Who knows what he was thinking," Esme says.

Edward scoffs. "I will know he stops being a coward and returns."

"He defected immediately to our family when he realized our size and ambition were too great for James and Victoria."

"He's more concerned with preserving himself than with cherishing a woman who loves him."

"So it seems," Tanya agrees, stepping outside into the cool air and joining our conversation. From the grim expression on her face, I can't imagine she's bringing good news.

Edward hisses. "He's gone?"

"Yes. Irina called. He left note apologizing for hurting her. He managed to lose her at one point and she couldn't find him and then she discovered the paper in her pocket."

"Oh, _Irina_." Esme's frowning now. "I'm sorry for all the trouble, Tanya."

"It's my own fault," Tanya dismisses, her arms crossed. "I should've been more cautious of Laurent. God knows where he's heading now."

"No more blame game," Alice barks, hopping to her feet and swerving to face Tanya. Esme and I also stand up, sharing a curious glance at Alice's outburst. "I can't find him. I'm seeing fleeting glimpses and nothing more."

Tanya nods. "I'll call everybody back. We'll discuss our next move— _together._ "

Together? It was just yesterday that Tanya was teaching me to french braid my hair while Kate explained how soft and heated a human man's body is. Irina and Laurent were wrapped around one another on the couch, bantering quietly about philosophy and politics. Carmen and Eleazer had both shaken their heads at Kate's vivid descriptions while Tanya chimed in merrily about the way blood flows through a human man's erection. It was immature and playful, and it most importantly it was _simple_.

Now I have Edward's smoldering gaze following me at every turn. I may as well be nude in his presence; it's as though he's memorized every curve in my body.

 _What do you want?_ I could scream.

But as young and naive as I am—Kate and Tanya's descriptions had flown right over my head—I know _precisely_ what he wants.

My love.

My body.

My forgiveness.

It's difficult to decipher which one takes precedence.

However, as much as I want to kiss the hollow of his neck or scale the length of his torso with my bare hands, I'm not certain I can hand over my heart.

Not just yet.

.

.

.

.

.

Author's Note: Thank you once again for your reviews and favorites. I've been borrowing a lot of what I know about amnesia from an episode of _Forensic Files._ I recall the real-life victim couldn't remember details about her life or memories, but she could remember the plot of an entire movie or some pop culture references. It was all very fascinating. Our brains are deceptive and powerful, and that's why Bella can be such an unreliable narrator at times too. I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on the story! Keep 'em coming!


	8. The Discussion

In such a short span of time, I've met Carlisle, Esme, and the elusive figure of my past, Edward. Their loving gazes are strange, and Carlisle's voice—deep and commanding—draws me closer to them. If Tanya is a queen, all grace and wisdom, then Carlisle is an ambassador—astute and courteous.

"We're happy to have you back, Bella," Carlisle says, his teeth straight and pearl-white as he smiles affectionately at me.

I nod, unable to draw a sentence together. Instead I linger close to Edward, itching to take his hand and run away into the faraway horizon.

"We won't be discussing anything further until Irina returns," Tanya declares, her spine erect and her silky mane piled into a messy bun. "You are permitted to talk amongst your own family, but me and my own will not be pressing further on the issue until Irina comes home."

Carmen nods. "She's Laurent's mate, you see."

"But that may blind her to reason," Jasper states, not unkindly. "Regardless of what mutual decision we come to, there's only one outcome: Laurent is exiled."

"We should track down Victoria," Edward adds, eyeing his fair-haired brother. Ah. So it's common knowledge that Jasper is a fighter? I have yet to discover the nature of his past, but it's clear as to anybody who meets him that he's a soldier; a tactician, even.

Alice gestures to me before saying, "It's no use. Bella said that Victoria's dead."

The Cullens and the Denalis corner me with their piercing gazes. My throat tightens and my chest swells with dread.

"How was she destroyed?" Carlisle inquires, a severe expression on his face. Esme, too, seems troubled; her hands folded nicely together and pressed firmly in front of her. "Were you spared for any particular reason from a similar fate?"

I open my mouth but find myself unable to speak.

For all my suspicions about their motives and their potential lies, I never considered my own deception.

Will they look at me the same?

The silence draws thin. It's Jasper who speaks first, his face stoic. "Bella. You have something to share. What is it?"

Edward grows agitated then, curling his lips back and growling lowly at Jasper. "She'll speak on her own terms."

"Don't crowd her," Kate agrees, smiling thinly at me.

But it's Tanya's intense gaze that I melt under, the weight of the accusation in her gold eyes crushing my heart.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, picking mindlessly at a button on my shirt. "Victoria's alive. I lied."

"Why?" Alice breathes out, her mouth falling open. " _Why_ , Bella?"

"It may have been fear." Esme's confidence in my character almost splits me in two.

I don't deserve her pity.

Instead I raise my chin and gaze, unblinking, at Jasper. "I'm sorry," I mouth, and closing my eyes I let the memories ruin every barrier I had enacted in my mind. Emotions concealed behind deceit and fear spill from my heart.

Jasper takes an unsteady step backward as if he had been punched in the gut.

.

.

.

.

.

 **ONE YEAR EARLIER**

"You're far too clumsy for a vampire," Victoria remarks, eyeballing the torn fabric of my jeans. I had been rummaging through the woods in search of lost items—human backpackers can be quite forgetful—when my jeans had snagged on a thornbush.

I roll my shoulders into a shrug. "It's not like I'm concerned about how I look." My eyes graze Victoria's body—a thick fur coat, matted and spotted with blood and dirt, flows down from her shoulders to her knees. The leather of her black boots has worn and torn, peeling away to reveal its underlayer of white fabric. "You're one to talk."

"These boots are Guchi," she snaps.

"I don't know what that is."

She chuckles then, her eyes alight. "Me neither, really. It's all stupid overpriced human nonsense. I swiped it from a thrift store looking to make bank on these hand-me-down babies."

"You really do like to ruin everybody's fun."

"But I got you a present." She rummages through her coat pocket and plucks out a weathered, yellowed paperback. I snatch it away from her and flip swiftly through the pages, my fingers mesmerized by the thin strips of paper.

" _The Things We Carried_?" I eye Victoria curiously. "It's a book. You don't seem like you're into reading."

"I _can_ read, Isabella," Victoria scoffs, rolling her eyes. "It's right up your alley."

"Why do you say that?"

"I asked the bookshop owner."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Did you kill him for this?" _Did you drain a man so you could hand me a gift?_ I don't think killing for the sake of it is justified. Victoria agrees (a little). We're far too evolved as specimens to partake in bloodsport. _  
_

"No. I was well-fed. I said you're a friend burdened by the past and anchored to the ground by your big heart. So he handed me this."

"Oh."

"Don't be insulted. I don't care for such emotions."

"I'm not."

"Good. Because you're not use to me when you're _carrying_ your human emotions with you everywhere. It's nauseating."

Aghast, I exclaim, "What does _that_ mean?"

"I saw how you looked at those characters on that film poster we passed."

I bow my head, embarrassed. Earlier I had stepped on a torn, laminated piece of paper caught underneath a tangle of leaves. It had depicted a man and woman pressed firmly against one another in a deep, passionate embrace. The title was generic and bland, but their open-mouthed kiss and wind-swept hair had awakened a strange sensation inside of me.

"We don't have time for love and silly romantic fantasies,," Victoria continues, intertwining her fingers with mine. "We can only survive."

"But—I wasn't thinking about that."

"Hmm." She plants a soft kiss on my forehead. "You shouldn't be demure. You're far too deadly and special for that, Isabella. My special little _creation_." Her arm snakes possessively around my waist. "I breathed _eternity_ into you for a reason."

"Why?" I whisper, my fragmented heart gathering its broken pieces. "I'm nothing."

"You're _everything_."

Her cold lips graze my own, for the briefest of moments, and it's as though I am fire incarnate.

.

.

.

.

.

 **PRESENT**

"I don't understand." Jasper is aghast, his alabaster skin whiter than normal. He leans against Alice for support, and she hurriedly sweeps her fingers through his hair, soothing away the torment I've created in his soul.

"I'm sorry," I cry, ignoring the heat of Edward's pained eyes. "I never meant for this."

"What's wrong?" Esme looks from me to Jasper, and she gently takes his hand in her own. Despair breaks across her face. "What are we feeling?"

"It's everything."

I cringe at Edward's words. "No, not everything, really—"

"She cares for Victoria," Jasper states, reading the confusion in the room. "As terrified of Victoria as she is, Bella is also enthralled by her."

"Is it normal?" Carlisle's eyebrows lower. "With you and Marie, I would think…"

Alice scowls deeply at his comment.

"It's normal given the circumstances," Jasper agrees, ignoring his wife's somber mood. "Victoria created Bella. It's only natural that Bella would imprint on her."

"I'm not an animal!" I cry, wrenching my hand away from Edward's. "It's nothing like _that_. But we spent _two_ years together and she taught me so much. It's not all black and white. I know it's her fault I'm this way, but she could've let me _die_ too."

"She lied to you every chance she was given," Edward whispers, disquieted. "You were manipulated."

"And what did you say to me when you left me?" I challenge, spinning on my heel to glare contemptuously at my forgotten love. "We were together, right? Then why did I let you go? You must have said _something_."

Tanya glides toward me, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly from behind. "It's not fair to say such things to Bella, Edward," she says, grim.

"Is this really appropriate?" Esme demands, drifting to stand beside her surrogate son. "This conversation is between Bella and Edward, yes?"

"He made it everybody's business when he accused me of not knowing my own feelings," I spit, my jaw taut. "That's what you do, isn't it?." Jasper slinks away from me, despairing at the fury in my voice. No. Let him know me for me. Now. On my terms. "What did you say?"

Edward is rooted to the spot. His once amber eyes have turned black once again.

"Okay, how did this become about Edward and Bella?" Kate appeals, making a grab for my hand; I yank it away, refusing to looking anywhere but into Edward's eyes.

Carlisle agrees. "We're here because of Laurent."

"No, we're here because we left Bella defenseless," Alice whispers, surprising everybody in the room—especially me. "Edward told us to go and we just packed our bags and left her without even so much as a goodbye. And now here we are."

Edward opens his mouth and then closes it shut.

"We were selfish," Alice finishes.

"What's the point in leading if your son is allowed to make unchallenged decisions, Carlisle?" Tanya asks, her voice small and pleading. " _These_ are the consequences of your poorly-structured authority, love. Learn to control your child. _Please_."

"I'm not a child," Edward declares, glaring haughtily at the strawberry blonde. "I made a poor decision thinking it would save Bella. Everybody has paid the price."

I laugh bitterly. "So don't sit here pointing fingers at Victoria when _you're_ just as guilty."

"Edward never meant you harm," Esme implores.

"But there _was_ harm." I place my open palm on my heart. "It's here." Slowly I drag my hand away and point my index finger at my skull. "And here. I want to heal—really, I do. But I can't heal if you won't even let me be who I am _now_." I inhale sharply, prepared for an influx of confusion, but nevertheless I persist. "I care about Victoria. It's true. But I know she was wrong to do what she did. I know she's distrustful and dangerous. I won't stop you from tracking her but I won't be there when you… _destroy_ her."

"We understand." Jasper's rearranged himself, once again content and formal. He draws closer to me; Tanya releases her hold on me as well. "You may not believe me, but I understand your feelings for Victoria. And it's not simply because of my power."

I tilt my head, wayward locks of hair falling over me face. "Your past?"

"That's a story for another time." He motions Alice forward, to which she floats to me, her long swirling skirt billowing around her.

"We're ready to let you be yourself," she apologizes, her voice tinged with love. "We've been clinging to who you used to be and we've acted as if you were the Bella we knew. But you're not. She's gone."

"And that's fine," Esme interjects. "You _are_ Bella, amnesia or not. You're simply evolved."

Carlisle, too, is smiling now. The room is positively aglow with love. I catch glimpses of their expressions, but it's Edward I seek. Batting my eyelashes, I blink a few times before leveling my gaze with Edward's. His brow is creased and his mouth is wired shut, but he's soft everywhere else—in his eyes, in his posture.

I nod encouragingly at him, a smile on my face. "I said horrible things." A prolonged pause ensues, and I add, " _Again_. I'm sorry. Maybe I can learn more about all of you, if that's alright?"

"We have a lot of time for that," Esme jokes. Her soft eyes twinkle with delight. It's obvious why the Cullens are swept into her presence like newborn fawns—I can already envision myself being comforted by her mothering embrace and tender love.

Just as conversation has turned to friendly banter, Irina strides into the room, her eyes wild and black and _hurt_. Kate and Tanya rush to her side, peppering her with featherly kisses and whispering quiet reassurances into her hair as they embrace her tightly.

Edward and I share an uneasy glance. (It's startling how powerful the tether between us—like gravity.)

"I'm so sorry, so deeply sorry," Irina breathes out, gazing at each of us with unfathomably sad eyes. "Especially you, Bella," she adds while gracefully sweeping to my side and taking my hands with a tenderness I had never seen in her before (at least toward me, that is).

"It's not your fault," I reply, stunned by the sincerity of her apology and the severe edge in her tone.

"Laurent admitted to revealing our secrets to Victoria," Edward announces, seemingly having unveiled Irina's thoughts. She pays him no mind; instead she steps back and joins her sisters. Carmen had wrapped a comforting arm around the blonde succubus; Eleazer is somber yet relaxed.

"Let Irina speak," Tanya interjects, her icy glare landing on Edward's face.

"Edward's correct," Irina begins. My throat feels tight. "Laurent had informed Victoria of Alice and Edward and their gifts. This had occurred before Bella's transformation. He doesn't know why Victoria had not simply ended Bella's life. He thinks she desired a 'puppet' of some sort. He also never expected Victoria to _boldly_ attack Bella either."

"Why else would she have desired information on my family?" Carlisle challenges. I have known him for less than a day, and yet even I know to see him in such a state of anger is a peculiar sight.

"It would be suicidal to challenge your family," Irina argues, a low growl emitting from her chest. "Surely Victoria would've known that and that's what Laurent thought as well."

"He fled, Irina," Tanya says, her tone gentle. "His innocence in this matter is questionable."

"He was ignorant!" Irina cries, lurching forward. Kate sighs heavily. "And can you blame him for running? Edward is _unhinged_ when it comes to the girl."

I flinch from the severity of her declaration whereas Edward hisses. It's a feral and distinct sound that sends of waves of pleasure vibration through me. (Dear Lord, I hope Jasper doesn't feel it.)

Alice arches an eyebrow. "The 'girl'? Her name is Bella."

"I'm not Bella's enemy," Irina growls. "Don't you dare ever imply I'm against her."

"There was no such implication," Edward rebukes.

Kate, normally placid when debates become combative, has also lost her composure. "It was implied in Alice's tone. Please. Let's remain civil, shall we?"

"Laurent doesn't know what Victoria had been planning," Irina continues, her voice bleeding with anxiety. Her shoulders are trembling. "He also never meant for Bella to be harmed or changed or any such thing. I believe him."

"We're not monsters here," Carlisle says, running his fingers through his gold tresses. "We're _vegetarian_ , for Christ's sake. We meant him no harm."

By his side, Esme flinches.

"And because he has fled our little 'trial' is complete," Tanya states, her voice now detached. Irina's eyes widen. "We will have no further association with Laurent, I'm afraid."

Irina flings herself forward, breathing heavily. An old human habit, perhaps? "If I can find him, then perhaps I can force him to explain? I will find him. I…" Her jaw quivers. "I love him, Tanya," she whispers. Jasper grimaces, although his eyes have melted into a soft buttery gold. What has he found in her heart? "I can't let him go. I can't."

"Oh, my love, my Irina," Tanya whispers, gingerly cupping her sister's face. "You are always welcome with us. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling right now, but I imagine your heart is heavy. If you must leave to find Laurent, then you are more than permitted to do so." Her expression hardens considerably then. "Laurent is not welcome _here_ , however."

"Unless he has something important to share with us," Kate concludes.

"We must consider Bella's safety and comfort," Carmen agrees, smiling lightly at me. I cannot return her affection.

Have I ruined their family?

The room seems to shrink. Everybody is too close, too cramped. "Edward," I murmur, suppressing the urge to fling myself through the doors and flee into the night, "I have to get out of here. Can you come with me?"

Edward is shocked, to say the least. His mouth falls open but he doesn't respond. After a long pause, he nods firmly and says, "Of course I'll come with you, Bella."

I lace my fingers through his and together we stroll out of the Denali house and toward his vehicle. (It's a sleek and slim thing; a deep ebony. There's an image of steel horse standing on its hind legs etched above the license plate.)

I eyeball the vehicle and then quirk an eyebrow at Edward as he briskly opens the passenger door for me.

"I like to drive fast," he remarks offhandedly.

"I like it fast too," I answer in earnest while ducking into the passenger seat, but my face goes red hot. _Oh._

Edward slips into the driver's seat. He doesn't react to my words, although I notice how he fumbles with plugging the keys into the ignition and a small smile slides onto my face.

He's such an awkward vampire.

.

.

.

.

.

"Alice say that you play the piano and you're very musically gifted."

"Playing the piano has always brought me comfort," Edward says, his eyes trained on the road as he speeds down a desolate highway. "Anything I couldn't articulate could be found on the ivory keys."

"I want to hear you play some time." I smile kindly at him.

"Of course. I would love to play for you."

"Where are we even going?" I survey the road for any hint of our destination, but find nothing relevant.

"Away. We have our own house near Anchorage. It's in a remote area. I've only seen one human near it, and he had been a researcher studying wildlife. We won't be bothered."

"I needed to get away," I admit dryly. "I was beginning to feel overwhelmed."

"Jasper told me."

"When did Jasper…? _Oh_."

"I'm sorry." He gives me a crooked smile. My heart swells. "I'll keep you in the loop next time."

I shrug. "I don't care. I'm sure reading minds is second nature to you."

"Just like building walls around your heart is second nature to you," Edward says, albeit in a kind tone.

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you mean?" We've veered into a dark tunnel and after passing through, Edward eventually turns sharply onto a road labeled with a dingy sign: PRIVATE ROAD NO TRESPASSING.

"Your gift," he finally answers, glancing warily at me. "I can't read your mind. Kate can't zap you. Hell, even Alice has trouble reaching you sometimes. Your guard is up, Bella, _way_ up."

Gradually the slim road we're traveling on becomes thicker with trees and shrubbery. More signs reveal ominous warning about "trespassers" and "privacy." I peer out the window in wonder at the remoteness.

"We purchased a large sum of land about thirty years ago," Edward explains, seemingly having connected my expression with the surrounding area. "Jasper was struggling and we… Well, we needed a break."

"From temptation?" I snort. "So this place is pretty much rehab?"

He chuckles. "Essentially. Alice designed it based on Jasper's childhood home. It's a simple and idyllic structure with nothing special to it. Rosalie hated it."

" _Okay_. From what little I've heard of Rosalie, she seems… I don't know how to put it."

"She's complex," Edward offers. "Her temper is white hot but she's also deeply loyal and passionate." He turns left onto an even thinner road; the car barely fits and the copse of trees has grown thicker. "If we're talking elements, Emmett is air: Natural, light."

"And Rosalie's fire," I guess. My mind wanders then: Red curls and red eyes. Fire incarnate.

 _I would very much like to meet this Rosalie._

"Why didn't you build this place in Texas? Isn't that were Jasper was born?"

"We needed Tanya and her clan at the time," he answers, his shoulders sagging. "Jasper had become more difficult than usual to control."

"So you gave him the illusion of freedom." Reflex kicks in and my jaw tightens. Old anger blossoms in my chest and spreads through my veins. "I bet he felt stifled."

Edward arches an eyebrow. "There's always a choice, Bella. Jasper can leave at any time. He stays because he loves Alice."

"But he doesn't believe that humans lives are worth cherishing?" I surmise. "And you're okay with that?"

"What Jasper feels about humans is his own business."

"And yours," I joke, my voice losing its edge. God, I can't fight with this man. He's too bendable and his voice is as smooth as satin..

Edward smiles wryly.

Soon the road clears and a small house comes into view. It has two stories and a porch, and the roof is pointed and sharp. The trims around the windows are black and the front door is a rich cherry red; the walls are egg white.

"It's cute," I announce. Awareness of our situation dawns on me and I frown at Edward. "Does anybody know we're here?"

He shrugs. "They'll eventually figure it out. We won't be long here, regardless. I'd like for you to meet Rosalie and Emmett when they arrive. You'll love Emmett, I just know it."

"You all stayed in this place?"

"Rosalie and Emmett didn't stay long… It's true, it's a bit small for us."

"But Jasper needed you."

"There's no kitchen or dining room for obvious reasons. There's a fireplace, a living space, and four bedrooms."

He parks right up next to the house. Before I can even touch the door handle, Edward has opened the door for me and is ushering me to my feet.

"Will you carry me into the house too?" I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

"If you wish."

In spite of myself I laugh as we head toward the quaint house. Instinct tells me to grasp Edward's hand, but I resist. Even small touches between us has ignited every dead vein in my cold body. I need to steady myself.

After opening the front door, I'm greeted by a serene sight: Very little furniture (currently covered in thick white sheets) and a wide fireplace. Truly it _is_ simple, but lovely all the same. I rip the sheet off the sofa (a vintage-looking number; dark green velvet and plush) and settle in. While Edward tosses logs into the fireplace and searches for a lighter, I can't stifle the plethora of questions and thoughts rushing through my head.

"If Jasper chose to feed off humans, would Alice still be with him?"

Edward stiffens while plucking a lighter from the drawer of a wide, oak cabinet. "Why do you ask, Bella?"

I ring my fingers through my hair. "I'm curious. You're not stupid, Edward. Even without your telepathy it's obvious Jasper doesn't share your guys' ideas on human life."

"Alice would follow Jasper," Edward sighs. "They're mated."

"Irina didn't follow Laurent." I tilt my head and stare Edward down, a smirk on my face.

He scoffs. "They are _not_ mated."

"Why? Because he left and she didn't follow?"

My tone is razor sharp. Edward heaves another sigh after lighting the fireplace.

"Because she can't see the ugliness of Laurent."

I blink a few times, perplexed. "What?"

"We're imperfect people, Bella," he explains, sitting down beside me. His eyes glitter when reflected against the fire. "Irina pretends that Laurent will accept their lifestyle when in reality we know he never will."

"He tried," I argue, my eyes narrowing. "I've seen it."

"I won't argue about what Jasper believes when it comes to the value of human life, but I can tell you this: He has tried to understand because he values Alice's perspective and he wants to know Alice for who she is."

"And you think Laurent doesn't have those sorts of feelings with Irina?"

"And vice versa. They get along just fine. I could hear Irina's thoughts and I imagine their relationship was simple and straightforward, right?"

I flick my hand dismissively. "They banter and flirt but… Yeah, that's about it." My nose scrunches up in disgust. "And they have obnoxious sex."

"So of course Laurent will try to eat an elk or two, Bella. He'll placate her for awhile and then 'relapse' and Irina will pretend that it was a mistake that can be corrected with time. Except there is _no_ reality where Laurent will give up human blood."

"Have _you_ tasted human blood?"

"I had a phase." Noticing my bewildered look, Edward elaborates, his voice sad and deep. "There was point I felt that my identity as a vampire had become too entangled in Carlisle's shadow. I was bitter and angry, and I just… _left_. I hunted the worst of human men, Bella, and it was a period in my existence that all I saw was blood."

I lean back against the sofa, my hands lying on my lap and my shoulders slacking. In truth I'm not offended by Edward's revelation, although I'm sure he's expecting it. However, there's a stark difference between us: I would've hunted _any_ human for sustenance, and yet Victoria had insisted on targeting only certain human men (the violent ones). Edward made a deliberate and precise effort to devour a particular type of mankind as if it had been a game. It's a sick form of rebellion.

"I never liked to target 'bad' men," I admit, shattering the strange silence that has come between us. "I never liked to hunt with a specific target in mind. You can't assign morals to something as gritty and gross as drinking blood…"

Edward is pensive. "You hunted men?"

"Rapists and murderers and child molesters." I draw my knees in and wrap my arms around myself. "It was stupid but I think Victoria betted on me being righteous. I'm not saying I'm _not_ disgusted by men like that, or any kind of person like that… But it really isn't our place to be moral and good. We're not human."

"Would you hunt humans if we allowed it?" His voice is strained.

I close my eyes and exhale softly. I remember the child's piercing scream; I also recall the richness and warmth of her blood. Her sobs had been painful to my heart, and yet her blood had rejuvenated me. Her life had ended violently; she had died alone without the comfort of those of whom she had loved.

So had I.

"I… I can try to see what you all think. I'll stay on your path even if you give me another option." I open my eyes and stare daggers at Edward. "It's a hypothetical question anyway. You and I both know that would _never_ be allowed. But if Jasper can be complacent and happy with it, then hell, why can't I?"

Admittedly I also crave Edward's adoration and respect. He seems to think highly of me, although it's clear as day that our viewpoints (on nearly all subjects) are poles apart. He values my ideas even though he has no qualms with challenging them. Edward can dissect every sentence that I speak and yet at the end of the day he will still care for me.

Is it free will though? There's a pull in my chest that seems to tug me in Edward's direction. What does it mean to be "mated" to another? What purpose has mating served vampires? We can't exactly reproduce.

"What are you thinking?"

I untangle my arms from around my knees and let my legs extend back out. Edward stills after I've brushed up against his side, my head resting against his shoulder. My skin burns pleasantly where it connects with his.

"I like talking to you."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"How do you feel about me?"

I giggle lightly. "I think you're interesting."

His eyebrows lower. "How so?"

"For a blood-drinking vampire, you're quite a gentleman. You won't touch a girl in an impolite manner but you'll sit and brood about that time you killed a random man."

"It's complicated," Edward answers.

I roll my eyes in return. "No, _no_ it's not. I guess your morals make who you are, but I don't get why you're so focused on things that happened years ago."

"I don't understand your fixation on ignoring the past," he counters smoothly. "Your decisions shape the future."

"My decisions, yes," I agree, raising an eyebrow. "But my feelings on those choices? Well, I can't dwell on them forever. It would drive me crazy."

"So what's your motto then? Live fast, die young?" His mouth twitches.

I lean away from Edward and grin. " _'Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is a gift, that's why we call it the present._ '" He snorts, to which I add, "Not all graffiti you see on buildings is ugly."

After a short while we enjoy the crackling flames. Edward is entranced by the warmth, and every time my skin brushes with his, his lips curve into a slight frown.

Chagrined, it doesn't take me long to realize that he misses my human warmth.

 _She's gone,_ I think, bitter. _Get used to it._

.

.

.

.

.

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the delay! It's been stressful at work but I'm finally on vacation now, and I can finally relax and unwind. As always: Thank you for your reviews and comments. You're all awesome.


	9. New York

Gliding into the Denali residence, I am instantly greeted by a foreign scent—freshly-mown grass, sawdust, grassy fields; it reminds me a homestead in the midwest. Flanking my right Edward is perfectly at ease while an impossibly large man with broad shoulders and short, curly black hair struts toward us, his smile dimpled and stretched from ear to ear.

"Well, look who it is," the man—who I presume to be Emmett—exclaims, opening his arms wide and hurrying toward me. My teeth mash together and a faint hiss rips from the back of my throat.

" _Emmett_ ," Edward growls. "Give her space."

Emmett, stopping mid-stride, cocks his head and gazes at me, his gold eyes glimmering with amusement. "Bella's _deadly_ now. It suits you."

"I'm sorry," I interject, willing my shoulders to relax. "I was just… _surprised_." Had he planned on sweeping me into a bear hug? I tilt my head and smile shyly at the oversized vampire standing in front of me. "You're Emmett?"

"The one and only," he replies dryly.

"Where's Rosalie?" Edward questions, but then his face darkens.

"Hunting." Emmett shrugs. "She was on edge and needed a break before meeting up with everybody. Can you blame her? This is a _lot_ of drama, Edward." Turning back to me, he grins. "You're something else, Bella."

 _Why does everybody seem baffled by my mere existence?_ A heavy sigh escapes my mouth. "I guess so."

"You attract danger like moth to a flame. At least you're all good now—well, as good as you _can_ be."

"I have amnesia," I state plainly.

Emmett rolls his eyes. "You're a vampire now, just like you always desired. You _did_ want this in another life, _Bella_." He elaborates my name as if tasting it for the first time, and I recognize that he's puzzled by my sullen mood.

Edward is absolutely mortified. "Can you please consider your words before you speak them?"

"No," I say, smiling at the burly vampire and ignoring Edward's bewildered look. "I like it."

"She likes it," Emmett mouths at Edward, to which the telepath scoffs.

"So I wanted to be a vampire?" I press, craning my neck and eyeing Edward somberly. "I guess I knew that. But how _badly_ did I want it?"

"It blinded you from all reason and logic," a voice, soft and feminine, answers and I whirl around, my eyes widening in shock.

Rosalie—who else could it be, of course—strolls in through the front doors, followed closely by Esme and Carlisle. She's a vision; a statuesque, exquisite young woman with canary-yellow hair that I'm certain glitters like gold in sunlight. She's a statue of Venus come to life; marble skin smooth as butter and face shaped by artists and gods.

"Oh," I whisper.

"Don't be impolite," Esme chides. "Introduce yourself."

"Rosalie Hale," she announces, stretching out her hand. "How do you do, Bella?"

"I am… fine." I shrink away from her intense gaze and her unreadable expression. All emotion has been ironed out of her face.

Carlisle nods once at Edward, who in turn rushes up the stairs and disappears from view. Baffled, I cross my arms and take careful steps away from the developing group.

"Alice and Edward will pack any of your belongings," Carlisle explains, noticing my unease. "Jasper and Tanya are discussing our next move, but we feel it would be safer to leave for a different area now."

"We _just_ got here," Emmett sighs.

"There have been developments, babe," Rosalie drawls, examining her nails. "Remember who we're dealing with here."

 _What is_ that _supposed to mean?_ The scowl on my face deepens.

"More drama?" Emmett snorts. "Nothing we can't handle, I presume?"

"It's not serious," Esme explains, offering me a saccharine-sweet smile. "Nobody's in danger. But it'd be wise to vacate the premise until we're certain of what we're dealing with."

"Which is?" he demands.

"Victoria," I murmur, curling and uncurling my fists.

A thunderous laugh tumbles through Emmett's throat while he throws his head back. His wife merely chuckles. "That's it? _One_ vampire?"

"She's clever," Carlisle states, shaking his head disapprovingly, "and even worse she's _adaptable_."

I can describe my former sire in more colorful language, but it's all lost when I consider her greatest strengths: The ability to deflect danger at every turn. It's as if she has a magnetic pull toward safety. I doubt she perished when she abandoned me all of those months ago. In fact it's obvious that Alice and Jasper's journey was about to disrupt the nomadic lifestyle we had created for ourselves—so she abandoned ship and fled into the night without explanation.

"She's resourceful," I conclude, grimacing at Emmett's arrogant display of confidence, "and she's determined. I don't know what she wants or what she's planning but she's _very_ good at staying alive."

"Well, let her come," Emmett scoffs. "Let's see how well she fares."

"That's the thing," I argue, irritated. "She _won't_ come—not unless she has something big up her sleeve. And she'll make _damn_ sure none of you see it coming."

"We can handle it," Alice states, appearing at my side and offering me a large duffle bag. In spite of my sour mood, a small smile flashes across my face as I sling the bag over my shoulder. There's something admirable about Alice's confidence—it never wavers and it isn't overinflated. It's quiet and calm; sometimes too boastful, but within reason.

Jasper and Edward stroll down the stairs, Tanya trailing behind them with a thoughtful look on her lovely face.

"I've dealt with much worse, Bella," Jasper says, positioning himself beside his wife. "Victoria may be a tactician, but so am I."

Emmett chortles. "Major Whitlock is out to play, huh? Good."

"I'm sure Alice has seen a lot of Major Whitlock," Rosalie teases, and Alice sticks out her tongue.

I laugh lightly, my hand covering my mouth, and suddenly everything seems much easier to me; it's as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Feeling much less tied down, I continue to smile while Carlisle explains where we'll be heading—another houses of theirs in Ithaca, New York—and what to expect concerning my "thirst."

"We'd rather keep you," Tanya whispers, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders and embracing me affectionately. "But I think you know it in your heart that you belong with them."

"It was nice to have you here," Carmen agrees, pushing Tanya aside and pressing her cool lips against my cheek.

After several somber goodbyes from Kate and Eleazer, I glance nervously at Tanya, an unspoken question passing between us.

"She's depressed," Kate interjects in a quiet voice, briefly glancing at the flight of stairs as if expecting Irina to make an appearance. "She'll miss you too, though. In spite of everything that has transpired, Irina still cares about you as we all do."

I shrug and smooth the expression on my face, although it's obvious by the quick exchange of looks between Edward and Jasper that one of them—but probably both—had caught the way I had bit my lower lip.

"So is your house in a… _popular_ … area?"

"Give yourself more credit, Bella," Alice chides, her elbow hooked on mine as we push through the front doors and head over to Edward's car. I notice a massive SUV parked near the garage and I wonder where they had time to acquire it. Their wealth must be substantial. It seems pointless to me given our status; I can sprawl across my meadow and spent days there without discomfort, although I think the Cullens find sanity and tranquility in their—seemingly _many_ —homes. It's simple… Normal, even. _Human_. Maybe it helps them believe that their humanity is still there in their hearts. Or maybe it's how they retain their strange diet; by pretending to be similar to their victims.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," I admit, willing the image of the screaming child forward. A cold sensation zips through me.

Edward opens the door for me and as I sink into the passenger seat, I quickly examine his face. Much to my relief I find nothing but a loving smile and warm topaz eyes.

"We'll help you," Jasper assures, slinking into the backseat alongside his wife while Edward maneuvers into the driver's seat. Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett have taken the SUV.

While we peel out of the driveway, I stare out the window at Tanya, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazer, each of whom continue to smile at me; Kate blows a kiss and I grin widely and wave once more. However, my eyes catch movement in the upper corner of the house, and I frown sadly while Irina, barely visible, gazes at me without emotion. Her mouth has pressed into a straight line and even from a distance her eyes are hard and cold.

There's no judgement or accusation in her face, though. In fact I would much rather Irina despise me than wallow in grief.

No, Irina is seemingly _lifeless_.

A walking corpse.

"She'll recover," Alice whispers from behind me.

"Have you seen it or are you _hoping_ that'll be the case?"

She doesn't answer and with a heavy sigh I lean back against the seat, my shoulders falling. Edward places his hand next to me, palm facing up, and I gingerly place my own hand on it. An electric shock, hot and aflame, surges through me.

From the dashboard mirror, Jasper smiles wryly.

"Great," I say aloud, "I'm on a roadtrip with a mind reader, an empath, and a psychic. So which one of you walks into the bar?"

Laughter fills the small space and I can feel my heart start to bloom with mirth and warmth.

.

.

.

.

.

"How'd we even get through Canada anyway?" I question, suddenly remembering that I had crossed the border from America and into its neighboring country. The journey had become a blur by that point—hundreds of trees and endless roads. I was too concerned about the strange vampires guiding me to even consider where we had been heading.

"You and I went hunting," Alice remarks, suddenly rummaging through the handbag at her feet. "We crossed without notice. Jasper passed through customs legally."

"How?"

"We have ID," Alice explains flippantly.

I blink rapidly, bemused. "But… How old are you?"

"They're fake, Bella," she says, rolling her eyes and handing me an envelope. I peel it open and retrieve a small leather notebook.

"How'd you get me a passport?" I exclaim, my eyes wide.

"We have connections," Jasper chuckles.

Edward smirks and I feel so small, so ignorant. "Yeah, you have a lot of money," I mumble. "So this is fake?"

"Your date of birth is correct," Alice says, leaning over my shoulder and pointing her finger at the glossy paper. "I thought you'd like to know that."

"Hey!" I practically shove the passport in Alice's face. "I remember when you took this photo. You said it was important to your visions. It was just for a passport?"

"You seemed so comfortable in Denali!" She throws her hands up in the air, offended. "I didn't want to give you the impression that we would up and leave. I didn't expect all this nonsense with Laurent and Victoria to come up."

"You look lovely," Edward pipes up, snatching the passport and observing it carefully.

"Keep your eyes on the road," I chastise, ripping the passport from his hand and then turning my attention to Jasper, turning around fully in my seat and glaring. "Tell me the truth, Jasper. Do you think I can handle Ithaca?"

He curves an eyebrow but doesn't reply, and Alice lightly elbows his ribs.

"Wow." I lower myself back into my seat. "Just great."

"Your bloodlust isn't as strong as most newborns," Jasper adds, ignoring his wife's critical look. "The animal diet isn't making you mad. You're frustrated, yes, but you're not fantasizing every other second about human blood. You just need more exposure to humans. Our house is in a more isolated area but there are humans in the vicinity—not a lot, but enough for your senses to pick up."

Edwards nods in affirmation. "You have nothing to worry about, Bella. We can teach you to manage it."

Jasper says, "It won't be easy. But it's not impossible. I know you think you're not in control of it, but you are."

"Bloodlust is natural, but the steps we take to combat it are active choices we make every moment of our lives." Alice smiles.

I lean against the door, my forehead pressed against the window. "If you say so."

"It helps to remember that these humans are people with intricate lives. They have paths they will take, families they may create, and when they die there will always be somebody who misses and loves them."

"Your father misses you," Jasper adds.

My skin bristles and my throat tightens. "I miss him too," I whisper.

"When we kill, there's always a Charlie Swan who misses his Bella," Alice murmurs reassuringly, "and they are left without answers and without closure."

I nod somberly. "When you put it like that…"

"I'm sorry," Alice says, reaching over and placing her hand on my shoulder. "You're a lot more compassionate than you realize. You think you're not bothered by the lives you've taken, and maybe you aren't, but have you ever taken a moment to consider it—to consider that perhaps those men weren't rapists or murderers or perverts, but that Victoria had lied?"

I stiffen in my seat and straighten my back. Exhaling and inhaling loudly, I dig through my memories of blood and screams. Men with wedding rings. Men with messy hair. Men with dark eyes. Handsome men. Pale men.

"She never… I guess I never thought about it," I admit, my breathing labored. But I don't breathe. It's not necessary. Why am I breathing so damn hard? "She just said what they did and I never thought about it."

"She's panicking," Jasper states, leaning forward.

"Should I pull over?" Edward asks, glancing at Jasper, who shakes his head.

Alice scowls. "I'm sorry, I didn't… I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"It's alright," I reassure, massaging my chest; it feels hollow and cold. "I'm glad you said that. I was _so_ naive, I can't believe it." I look at Edward then, my lips curled down into a deep frown. "I remember something, but I don't think any of you will like it."

"From your past?" Alice says, hopeful.

"No, I remember a detail I overlooked. Victoria had me feed from certain men—tall guys with red hair and pale skin."

Edward pales. "Oh."

"She was conditioning you," Jasper muses, massaging his chin thoughtfully.

Alice is absolutely flummoxed. I've never seen her in such a state of mind. "Victoria had you… kill men… who looked like Edward?"

"I think so." A shudder passes through me. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Edward states, grasping my hand tightly. "But it's an important piece to the puzzle we're trying to solve."

I exhale softly. "Victoria's motives?"

"I never considered she would be as sadistic as James," Jasper ponders. "She's definitely calculating and intelligent, but James's cruelty had been unique."

Alice grumbles, "Or so we thought."

"She wants revenge then?" I speculate. "Against Edward?"

"He killed her mate." Alice rubs her forehead as if willing a headache away.

"It was a well-deserved execution," Edward mumbles.

"But Victoria doesn't see it that way," I counter, nudging his side. "Honestly. You won't find reason or logic to what she's doing. It's all just pure _impulse_."

Alice's nostrils flare. "I'm not seeing her anywhere."

"Maybe she just _don't_ care about us?" I ponder while counting the passing trees. "Have you thought that maybe whatever she's doing has nothing to do with us?"

"Doubtful," Edward responds.

"She's obsessive," Alice agrees, "and unhinged."

"And _outnumbered_ ," I retort.

However, Jasper's responds sends a shiver trembling down my spine. "She can find more numbers, Bella."

Alice, too, gawks at his statement. "I can't imagine she has the strength or resources to create an army of newborns, Jazz. She's not exactly Maria."

"She stuck her claws into Bella," he argues, glowering out the window. "And who says she's alone? We still can't find Laurent."

"Laurent's an idiot, not a weird creep," I exclaim, trembling. My eyes flick between Jasper and Alice, and then rest on Edward. He stares straight ahead, his lips fused into a firm line and his jaw taut. "That's what we're thinking, right?"

"No, you're right," Alice says, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "But we should consider _what_ Victoria's willing to do to get revenge."

"Like create an army of vampires?" I whisper, sinking lower into my seat. "This is all so _insane_."

"We're merely hypothesizing," Edward reassures, smiling crookedly at me. "Nothing is set in stone and there's _nothing_ we won't see coming."

Unwilling to argue any further, I instead allow my thoughts to wander.

For two years Victoria and I traveled great distances; filling our bellies with blood and learning to exist together in spite of our starkly different personalities. Victoria's whims were guided by her immovable commitment to survival whereas I yearned for the freedom of life—of love and education and eternal youth.

How can I explain to Edward that I'm _tired_ of running? His family is risking life and limb to secure my safety, and yet I sit here and selfishly crave the privileges that immortality has to offer (without restriction or worry).

Suppressing a sigh, I turn to Edward and ask, "Does the house have a library?"

"Mhmm. Esme's already made arrangements to purchase more books. She wanted to know what you're interested in."

"I have no idea," I answer honestly, fishing my fingers through my hair.

"Bella's a romantic," Alice offers. "She was absolutely over the moon when we turned on _Roman Holiday_."

"It was _charming_ ," I insist, my neck heating up.

"Hepburn is a doll," she agrees, ignoring my embarrassment entirely. _Honestly_. She reminds me an older sister I never asked for and never realized I needed.

Edward tosses me a sly look. "Esme will get right on it."

" _Excuse_ me," I say, simpering. "But can I make my own decision?"

"And that is?"

The smirk on my face deepens. " _Dracula_?"

Alice mimes a gagging noise while Jasper chuckles.

"Don't let Rosalie catch you reading _Dracula_ ," Edward laughs while keeping a steady hand on the wheel. "The description of vampirism is a fair bit too gaudy for her liking."

"Because there's nothing prettier than a woman chowing down on a deer," I scoff.

Our impromptu road trip is fairing smoother than expected.

.

.

.

.

.

After several hunting intermissions and gas stops, we arrive at the Cullens' Ithaca residence. The SUV is already parked in the driveway. My eyes marvel at the sight of their home and its warm architecture. The Georgian appearance of the house is a slightly divergent style from the Colonial houses we had passed traveling through the long, desolate road. Thick walls covered in ivy cocoon the place and shield it from view of any wayward humans, and it's further separated by a thick grove of trees surrounding the area.

"It's nice," I say in a small voice. I don't even muster the strength to protest when Edward opens the passenger door and offers his hand.

"Esme's taste is impeccable," Alice says, her arms folded as I step outside; friction crackles between Edward and I, even when his arm falls to his side. His fingers twitch.

My gaze locks back onto the lengthy driveway. We had driven through the town and my mouth had ached at the sight of humans. Litters of small families decorated the streets with their strollers and their friendly smiles. Their heartbeats begged for my thirst's attention, and indeed it had answered. I'm sure nobody in the car missed my tense posture. Thankfully they had not commented on it.

"The nearest house is a few miles out," Jasper announces, picking up my apprehensive mood. "You're fine."

"I haven't seen anything," Alice assures, clamping her hand on my shoulder and leading me toward the house. "Come on. I want you to see your room."

"I get a room?" I blink rapidly, my cheeks flaming. Carlisle and Esme idle near the front door, and I wave sheepishly.

"We all need privacy," Alice explains, dipping past the two of them and pushing through the door. I peer over my shoulder, but Edward quickly engages them in quiet conversation. Our eyes lock briefly and he smiles sweetly at me, and my anxiety dwindles in return.

"Is it a room shared… with anybody…?" I barely have time to admire the entryway before Alice is tugging my hand and pulling me up the stairs. _My God, this woman never stops._

She snickers at the tremble in my voice. "If you _want_ , but it's your space. Do whatever you please with it. If that means inviting Edward in, then so be it—"

" _Alice_ ," I whisper severely.

" _Bella_ ," she mocks, stopping at a white door. "We're not prudes here. Okay, maybe _Edward_ is, but the rest of us aren't blind. Especially not Jasper."

"What are you getting at?" I demand, crossing my arms protectively. _I could strangle this girl, I really could._

"You don't have to restrain yourself," she replies, pinning me to the spot with her fierce gaze. "I get that you're guarded and I understand why, but you have to know we're not concerned about your decisions or how you present yourself to us. We trust you and we hope we can earn your trust as well."

"I trust you," I murmur, surprised by the cold emptiness that digs a hole into my chest. Scowling, I add, "I know I can be… _Look_ , I get it, but I _do_ like you all. Really. You've done so much for me already."

Her face is aglow then, and she gingerly opens the door and gestures for me to step inside. Matching her smile, I slip into the room.

It's empty and inviting and open with a polished wooden floor and wide windows. Sunlight pours into the area, lighting up the stark white walls.

"It's bigger than I'd thought it would be."

"We're not sure what kind of furniture you'd want," she explains, positioning herself beside me and elbowing my side playfully. "An audio setup, bookcases, a bed…"

" _Really_?" I whine.

"God, you're just as bad as Edward," she teases while lifting her hand. A slant of sunlight catches her palm and the skin glitters vibrantly.

"I'd feel bad about asking for anything," I say, pretending that the burning sensation pulsating beneath my skin doesn't feel pleasant while my mind wanders to the image of Edward's lean figure. "It's not my money and I should work for it."

"Our money is your money," she states firmly, throwing her arm around my shoulders. "Besides, we want you to take it easy. The first years as a newborn can be tough." Her cell phones vibrates with a text message. "It's Rose," she says without bothering to check. "She's planning on shopping later when the sun goes down and she's wondering if you'd like any new clothes while she's out."

I raise both my eyebrows. "Uh."

"Insightful."

"I don't think she likes me," I elaborate, frowning. "Did she _ever_ like me?"

"Rose is soft on the inside," Alice answers, leaning her head against my shoulder and staring aimlessly out the window. "She would never care to admit it though. Esme's told her to play nice, so she will. It's not that she doesn't like you, but that she's protective of her family— _possessive_ even. You're a stranger to her and she'll have her guard up for awhile. Doesn't that sound familiar?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"She was angry about your choices, yes, but… She would've learned to love you once she stopped being so damn stubborn. And right now she _does_ care about you. She feels sorry for you even, and Rose isn't that sympathetic of a person."

I nod, although my diminishing concern over my missing human years returns. Who was Bella Swan and why had this strange family of vampires imprinted on her?

"I'm fine with what I have on me. Tell her I said thanks though. Where did she go? Is she with Emmett?"

"You don't need to know."

"... Oh. Ew."

"Prude."

.

.

.

.

.

For days the Cullens return from trips into town with massive boxes, and soon "my" room is decorated with large bookshelves. Esme had even purchased a beautiful, vintage chaise lounge now resting in the corner. At first I had remained firm in my stance against utilizing their wealth, but Alice had quickly bypassed by protests and started to buy items that would "suit my character," according to her.

By the end of the week I'm left astonished by their unabashed hospitality, and it seems concerns over Victoria's intentions have dissolved. (Or they're simply keeping me in the dark. Either way it's a welcome relief.)

However, I'm disappointed by the distance (both physical and emotional) between me and Edward.

He doesn't avoid me, per se, but he doesn't seek me out either. Perhaps I'm to blame as well, but I shamefully admit to myself that his unintentional rejection stings. Our conversations are light and breezy, and they never broach difficult topics. When he touches me, and it is rare, he does so in a cordial manner as though we're co-workers or "just" friends.

 _What are we_ really _though?_

The question my conscience presents is impossible to answer.

We're at an impasse in our relationship; a fork in the road; a crossroads. What direction should we take? While it seems Edward wishes to turn right, I'm angled to the left.

He doesn't hunt with me, an experience I strangely desire for reasons beyond my comprehension, and the most intimacy we've discovered is when we're silently reading together while sprawled across the leather chaise.

Even more worrisome to my expanding suspicions are the long, meaningful looks shared between him and Alice, and sometimes Jasper.

"Is something wrong?" I ask quietly one evening.

It's a typical cold night. Moonlight leaks into my room while I sit cross-legged on the floor, leafing through a textbook on psychology. My eyelids flutter as I peel my eyes away from the pages and stare sadly at Alice. Edward, Jasper, and Emmett are away on a hunting trip, and Rosalie and Esme have still not returned from the local shopping center; Carlisle is working at the nearest hospital (a notion I still can't wrap my head around).

"What do you mean?" She sets her own book aside and smiles affably at me.

"Is something wrong with Edward?" My voice quivers.

Alice exhales and then says, "Nothing is wrong, Bella. Edward's just… He's nervous."

"Nervous?" I blink rapidly; my stomach somersaults. "Is it Victoria?"

"God no. She's not on our radar at the moment. Edward is just concerned about his relationship with you."

"He's not alone," I grumble petulantly.

A tiny laugh rolls off of her tongue. "He's young and traditional, and he's not sure how he should handle his relationship with you considering the _situation_. It'd be best for him to explain that, but his mind has been all over the place lately. It comes down one obstacle though, and it's that he doesn't want to conflate the relationship he had with you before with the one that's developing _now_."

"You talk to him—in your mind, I mean. I know you do. Have you seen anything?" I demand. "It's like he's scared."

"I've seen _too_ much," she snorts.

My eyes bug out, pupils blown wide, and the textbook slips through my fingers and lands with a _thud_ onto the floor.

"Not like _that_ ," she exclaims, guffawing at the alarmed expression on my face. "You can relax. I'm sure if Edward saw a vision like _that_ in my head he'd run away."

"I wish he would just talk to me," I sigh.

"You're a big girl, Bella," she retorts. "Why don't _you_ talk to _him_?"

"I don't even know where to start," I breathe out.

"Start with your heart. What's it saying?"

 _I want to run into the wilderness and never look back, but I also want to melt into the earth, right here and now, and never leave._

It's dramatic and depressing, and I can hardly explain it aloud, but as much as I appreciate the Cullens' generosity, I cannot contain the fears that spoil my spirit and leave it rotten.

 _Don't leave me_ , I beg to nobody, my unmoving heart desperately seeking an old song. _Please stay._

Does Edward perceive me as breakable? It's an unfair assessment. I'm as unyielding as anybody else in this house, and yet he looks at me as if I'm a sheet of paper too close to a candle's flame..

But like wax, I melt under his presence. It overwhelms my senses and coats my skin, thick as honey. His scent is clean, pure, _good_.

The terror I feel is an old tune, one I've grown weary of.

 _You're a vampire,_ I chide. _You're not a child._

Wild and untethered, and belonging to the earth and its blood and roots, I'm not worthy of the Cullen name. But perhaps that's okay. They hardly seem offended by my gory feeding habits—Rosalie especially is immaculate after a hunt—or my unrefined taste in music and education and arts. The Cullens are money and wealth, and cultured and wise and _proper_. How can I ever compete? The Alaskan plains had been a sanctuary for me, and the coastal woods of North America will forever be my _first_ home.

An icy shiver runs through me.

 _I don't deserve to be here. What have I accomplished?_

I'm a newborn vampire with a broken mind and an insecure spirit. What good am I to them? With fondness I gaze at Alice.

"Alice?" I whisper. "How do you manage it? You're the only one who knows what it's like… to feel lost."

"The past is the past," she answers with an impish smile, "I look to the future."

"I'm sorry I'm so depressing," I laugh lightly, urging my mouth to smile. "I sometimes forget you had it just as bad as me."

"Think of your lost memories as a blessing or a fresh start," she says, shrugging once. "I realized the only way for me to move forward was to _move forward_ —to carry my feet and to keep my head high. Seeing the future helped too."

 _I've carried shame and fear and guilt and loneliness_ , I mentally counter, my heartstrings twisting and knotting.

Now… Well, I will carry my hope, wherever it is.

"Thanks, Alice."

She tilts her head and smiles. "You're welcome."

Three hours later at dawn Edward saunters up the driveway, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he struts alongside Emmett and Jasper. Sucking in a deep breath, I gently tap on the window overlooking the front of the house, to which all three men stare upward in bewilderment.

I wave tentatively, and Emmett gives a mock salute while Jasper and Edward smile kindly.

 _I want to see you_ , I think, knowing it will not reach Edward but trying nonetheless. _Will you see me?_

Moving away from the window, I step into the center room and wait. Thankfully Edward appears before me, a happy look on his face (although his eyebrows have pulled together).

"Is something wrong?"

I shake my head, still smiling. "No, I just…" _You got this, you got this, you got this._ " I missed you."

He's shocked, to be certain, but also more joyful than I've seen in quite awhile. "I missed you too."

"How was the hunt?"

"Satisfying. Plenty of game, and I played referee to a wrestling match between Emmett and Jasper."

"Who won?"

"Jasper, of course." He rolls his eyes then and says in a louder voice, "I'm just telling the truth, Em."

There's no privacy in this damn house. "I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"I want to get away from here for awhile, just you and me.." In the distance I hear Emmett sputter with concealed laughter. "Are they eavesdropping?" I demand, glaring suddenly while my ears burn hot.

Edward is also irritated. "I would love to have some privacy with you, yes." His phone vibrates and an agitated sigh heaves from his chest. "It's Alice."

Astounded, I listen as several pairs of feet shuffle throughout the house. Realization dawns on me as drawers are opened and shut, and bags are rustled.

"Where's everybody going?" I demand, flummoxed.

"They're giving us privacy."

"But…"

"They won't be far." He grins. "Alice has already made preparations. She said that you needed space. They'll be gone a week so that you can unwind."

"It's not fair to them," I argue fruitlessly.

He flicks his hand dismissively. "They don't mind." Pausing, he adds, "Most of them don't mind." An unspoken understanding passes between us: _Rosalie_. "It will only be a week and then they'll come back. I _swear_ they won't be far, Bella."

My chest has tightened as I imagine Alice's departing figure. Clenching my eyes shut, I ignore the memory of fire engine-red curls that decorate my vision. After the image fades, I open my eyes and smile at Edward.

"I'm sorry if I seemed distant," he starts, staring guiltily at me. My heart wrenches. "I'm still processing everything."

"No, it's fine," I lie smoothly, my smile tightening. "I think I'm too lost in my head sometimes. I forget you're suffering too, and probably feeling a little lost yourself."

"I'm not suffering," he breathes out, amazed. "I'm _manically_ happy that you're here with me, alive and unhurt."

My mouth falls open. "Oh, I… I didn't mean a _bad_ sort of suffering. More like… It's awkward, isn't it? Can I just say it? _Awkward_."

He nods once. "I know I've asked before, but I want to ask again: Are you comfortable here with us? Is there anything else we can provide?"

I chuckle lightly at his chivalry. "I'm fine. You've all done more than enough. And I really don't want to put any of you out."

"They've been newborns themselves and they understand how overwhelming it is. We're an unusually large coven. We know what it's like to desire space from each other."

"I get that, I really do, but—"

"Everybody is fine, Bella," he intervenes. I hear the car's engine start and his phone vibrates once more. "Alice says, 'Good luck and be good.'"

 _Be good?_ Heat smothers my cheeks. "Bye, Alice," I whisper softly.

"I'm sorry, I know how attached you are to her. She and I can swap places, if you'd like."

"No," I answer too quickly, my eyes wide.

The realization of what's unfolded descends on me.

A week—a week _alone_ with Edward in a large, spacious house. If I was still human, my heart would be hammering in my chest.

There are questions I have for Edward—about his past, about our relationship prior to my change. These thoughts are tangled in my head and they control my heart.

I desperately want to hunt with him as well, but I doubt he will engage me in that activity. I don't understand why, but perhaps I will have answers by the end of this week.

Slyly, I announce, "I'll hunt tomorrow."

"Hmm. I'll drive you to our favorite hunting spot—no humans in sight."

"But you won't join me?" I press, my confidence deflating.

"I've just hunted."

"A little more blood won't kill you," I jest.

Unabashed, Edward says, "I won't be far, Bella. I'll make sure there are no humans in range either."

 _Why won't you hunt with me? Is it shame over what I am or is something less silly?_

This is going to be a revealing week.


	10. Hope

Time is an alien concept to me ever since I awoke as a timeless creature.

Although it has been a mere day since the Cullens—at the behest of Alice—packed their bags and vacated the Ithaca home, it feels as if weeks have gone by since I last saw the tiny, raven-haired woman and her eccentric relatives.

True to his word Edward had driven me to a secluded area to feed, and after staring longingly at him while he avoided eye contact did I finally sigh and charge into the sprawl of forest, dozens of little heartbeats singing to life for me.

After I had finished and returned several hours later, he had motioned to the flecks of blood on my shirt and said, "Messy, huh?" His tone had been laced with humor, but said humor did not reach his eyes.

Now as the night descends on us, I struggle to combat boredom.

And it's not to say that Edward is dull—far from it, in fact. However, he won't engage in familiar activities in my presence, like playing the piano or listening to music, and I can only gaze moodily at him while he innocently combs through a magazine.

"Reading anything interesting?"

He glances at me placidly. "Not at all. It's a _TIME_ piece on somebody called 'Kardashian.' Hardly noteworthy from what I'm gathering."

"So I've got a question."

"You're full of questions."

"What did somebody your age do for _fun_ back when you were human?"

Chuckling, he tosses the magazine aside and leans forward in his seat. "Well, there was dancing. I quite enjoyed the theater, but most of my time as a youth was spent with my mother—I loved playing for her while she sat and read."

My heart swells and warmth spreads through my body. "Wow, that's very sweet. You were close to your mom?"

A shadow passes across his face for a second before he says, "Yes, I loved her dearly. She was the center of my universe and the clearest memory of my human years."

"The clearest… Explain?"

His voice is soft and gentle when he answers. "My memories of my humanity are hazy—like a pool of murky water. But somewhere in there I have a crystal clear image of my mother. She had an oval face and a lovely set of green eyes… Her hair always fell in waves. I admired everything about her, from her unselfish attitude to her unspoiled love for life and art."

"I'm sorry for bringing her up." I rub my arms as if a chill has entered the room. _Big mouth, huh?_ His amber eyes are fierce with affection, and I can tell he's sunken into his own memories.

"I don't mind talking about her." He shrugs. "My father had paid for my piano lessons, but it had been my mother who encouraged me every step of the way."

"What was her name?" I quietly inquire after a long pause.

"Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," I echo, feeling it on my tongue. "Elizabeth and Edward."

He laughs lightly. "My father's name _was_ Edward, actually."

"How did you…?"

 _How did you die?_ It's an awkward question, but given what we are it's hardly an offensive one. We are the undead.

"Influenza. It struck Chicago hard, and it took my mother and father with it."

Bitter sorrow floods my veins. "I'm sorry, I… That's awful."

"Everybody dies, Bella," he states, gazing at me through heavily-hooded eyes. "Some of us have simply… _prolonged_ it."

"You think we'll eventually meet our own end?" I inhale sharply.

"I think that the concept of _eternity_ isn't so simple," he retorts, smirking. "The sun will trigger earth's demise, after all. And who's to say vampires won't find themselves on the run from evolving human warfare?"

In spite of the dark discussion at hand, I giggle to myself. "I can't imagine being harmed by a _human_."

"And I never imagined becoming a vampire or iPods or nuclear weapons, but here we are."

"One of those is not like the others."

"The point is that we shouldn't have so much faith in our immortality."

My jaw tightens. "Are you always so fatalistic?"

"It's logical."

"It's pessimistic," I counter, falling back against the sofa.

He rolls his eyes. "I've never pretended to be an optimist."

"I can see that."

I can see every part of Edward.

He's cynical with his heart dipped in darkness, and yet he clings to the light like a newborn baby and its mother. In spite of my history of blood, he cherishes my soul—but he cannot find it in himself to search for his own redemption.

Paradoxical and theatrical, Edward Cullen isn't nearly as intuitive as he perceives himself to be, and I think deep down he's aware of this fault.

Shoving my laughter back in my throat, I smile brightly at him instead. "So what kind of dancing did you do back in the day?"

"It was carefree and jaunty, and I… Well, I never cared for it, really."

"So I take it nobody ever asked you to dance?"

He glares at the devious smirk on my face. "I was busy."

"Busy playing the piano," I tease, poking his shoulder tauntingly. "Were you ever… involved with anybody?"

"I told you, I've never—"

"That doesn't mean you've never casually dated or kissed anybody," I argue, crossing my arms. "Or have you always been asexual?"

He gapes at me and his face drains of color (which is strange considering we don't have blood pumping in our bodies). "I'm not asexual."

"There's nothing wrong with it," I say, but on the inside I'm screaming. _Oh God, what if he_ is _asexual?_

"I value monogamy in its more _traditional_ form," he explains, his shoulders falling.

"Like engagement, marriage, kids, and all that jazz?"

A look of agony hardens in his eyes. "Do you want children?"

Blinking rapidly, I say, "Uh, no. I can't speak for my former self, but I don't really think it's something I cared about."

 _She was screaming. I took her parents away—and then I took her life too._

"I'm sorry if I come across as cold, but I'm just trying to do this right."

Edward then lifts his hand, his palm open and awaiting mine. Hesitantly I place my own hand over his, and his fingers curl through mine. A bolt of lightning surges through me.

"Edward, I'm not interested in marriage," I elaborate while also squeezing his hand in reassurance; the memory of my first kill tucks itself back into the darkest corner of my mind. "It just seems pointless to me."

His disposition sobers. "What about _dating_?" The term is awkward and childlike on his tongue.

I smile at him, my mouth stretched wide. "That sounds fun." I pause, deliberating on the subject, before asking, "Have you ever dated anybody besides me?"

"When I was sixteen I thought the local minister's daughter was charming," he admits, eyeballing me in anticipation. "But in the end I was too invested in my own habits to pursue those feelings. I didn't want to marry knowing I may end up dying in war."

"You wanted to be a _soldier_?" I gape.

"It was honorable and I wanted to defend my country," he replies flippantly. "All the glory and distinction of a soldier's life made an impression on me, but it had been my mother and eventually the sickness that kept me in Chicago."

I rub my thumb against his hand still curled in mine, and my undead heart feels as if it's fluttering—all my senses (touch, scent, sight, sound) hum to life, dwelling anxiously just beneath the surface of my porcelain-white skin. "I can't imagine you as a soldier," I whisper, my voice huskier than I'd realized. "You're not _rough_ enough for that."

"Even knowing my past?" He stares sensually at me.

And here we are: He's plucked his heart from his chest and he's handing it to me.

 _Brand me_ , his eyes plead. _Murderer. Unworthy. Sinner._

Although I find his perception of himself absurd, I know it burdens him terribly. Whereas religion is a mere blip on my radar, the concepts of purgatory and hell challenge him everyday.

He's waiting at the entrance of Heaven, begging for forgiveness.

"You felt trapped," I argue, my own eyes bearing into his. "Carlisle never gave you a choice, and I think you just sort of _snapped_ for awhile. You hurt shitty men? Oh, big deal. There are too many bad men in this world anyway."

"I've never heard you curse before," he laughs darkly, his voice deep and emotional.

"I've been known to dabble when the occasion calls for it."

"You're different, Bella." He moves a lock of hair behind my ear. Friction buzzes between us. "You're… _unyielding_. And you're impressively observant."

"I had to be," I whisper, resting my head against his shoulder and lowering our intertwined hands onto my lap. "I was constantly in the path of a _hurricane_."

He nods rigidly. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop _her_. I hunted her, but my tracking skills aren't exactly in a good shape."

"Don't be sorry." I tighten my grip. "I think I was always meant to be a vampire."

"It could've have been softer." With his free hand he caresses my arm, his nimble fingers burning like fire against my flesh. I shudder. "It didn't have to be violent and bloody."

"I passed through hell and I survived. I was like a phoenix rising from the ashes." I chuckle. "It's _fine_ , Edward. I want to be a part of your family. I want this. Victoria is in the past." The hole in my chest widens, but I ignore it and persist through the icy caverns of my fears and desires. "I'm not worried about what happened. I'm worried about how I fit into your life." Craning my neck and gazing up at him, I ask in a hushed voice, "Why won't you hunt with me?"

He lowers his head slightly and his gaze straightens as he faces forward. "I'm afraid I'll lose control," he breathes out, his entire frame trembling.

I grasp his hand hard and my eyebrows pulls together. "I'm not breakable. I can handle it."

"You wouldn't be in danger," he acknowledges.

I blink several times. "Then what are you afraid of?"

"When we feed, we're primitive. Every sense is animalistic and every instinct is raw."

"I guess." I peer up at him, befuddled. "Do you think we'll fight over blood?"

"I think every feeling we have for each will surface and take the reins— _every_ feeling. How do you feel when you hunt, Bella?"

I quiver slightly then, my brain slowly trailing after his words as I struggle to comprehend their meaning. "I, ah… I feel amazing. _Exuberant_."

"It's feverish, right?" He shakes his head, seemingly repulsed. "You're being consumed by your own cravings and wants and needs. _Blood_. I imagine it's what humans feel when they've pumped heroin into their feeble veins."

I nod a few times, my fingers loosening around his. "I get it—kind of."

"I was born in a different time, Bella," he sighs, hearing the disappointment in my tone. "I can't imagine becoming undone around you in such a harsh, carnal manner."

"You should fear me," I jest, smiling crookedly at him. Tension bubbles in the atmosphere. The air feels too thick; repressive. I want to curl into myself, close my eyes, and sink into the dark abyss of sightlessness. (I can't sleep, after all; the thought that wounds me.) "I'm stronger than you. I'm faster than you."

Edward arches an eyebrow. "Hmm. I suppose you'd have the advantage over me for _now_."

"So you're nervous that your bloodlust will be overridden by….?" I can't muster the confidence to finish the sentence. I'm like those flustered, blubbering women in films, all blushing cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. _Get a grip, Bella._

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yes."

"I see your point," I say, slowly retracting my hand and folding both of my hands on my lap. "I don't agree with it, but I can see where you're coming from. But Edward, I meant what I said: I don't care about engagements or weddings or any of that."

He nods solemnly. "Can you tell me why? I don't think you're wrong, per se, but I would prefer clarity on your feelings."

"Who's to say you won't lose interest in me years from now?" Biting my lower lip, I smile sadly at him. "Or our differences clash too much and it becomes too much? You want marriage. I _don't_. You want a traditional relationship as man and wife, and _I_ want something lawless and natural… with you. You believe in souls. I think the universe isn't that complicated. _Hell_ , Edward, what even is a soul? Sentience? Self-awareness? Who the hell knows!" I slide down the sofa, my shoulders low and my posture slacking. Grimacing, I say, "How's this going to work? How do I know you won't leave… It wouldn't be the first time."

Edward clenches his jaw and his expression is hard and severe. "I wish I could hear your thoughts. Have you always had these feelings?"

I gesture with my hand dismissively. "Kind of. They change depending on my mood. And it doesn't help that I don't really know what you're thinking either," I retort.

"I won't leave you." I eye him dubiously and he scowls. "I can't expect you to have faith in me after everything that has happened, but can I ask a favor of you?"

"It depends."

"Can you answer me honestly? How can I earn your trust and your forgiveness? Please tell me."

I snort. "I've forgiven you awhile ago, Edward. But I don't think my problem is trust. It's like you said: I don't have faith. Not like you do. And being distant doesn't help," I snipe, glaring sharply at him. "You were pulling away and now you're all over me. It's confusing! And I sympathize with you, I _really_ do, but I think you rely on your telepathy too much… Believe me, I wish you could read my mind right now."

"Well, that's a first. You've always cherished your mental privacy."

"Clearly it's causing problems with how you interact with me, so—"

"I'm daft, aren't I?" He places his face in his hands and hunches over, distressed. I straighten my back and gaze at him, wide-eyed. "Alice called me a 'foolish, prideful, know-it-all _who knows nothing_ ' before she left. I'm sorry."

"We're in a good place," I state evenly, hooking my arm around his. "It's not stable and it's a bit complicated, but it's _good_. We just have to work on it—maybe some compromises."

"What would these compromises entitle?"

I smile cheerily in response. "We have differences. That's _okay_. Let's learn how to handle these differences. But right now, just let yourself be comfortable and open with me. _Please_. So I'm gonna ask you this: Can you play the piano for me? I want to hear it."

Edward, nodding, gingerly takes my hand and peels me off the couch. We leisurely exit the room and stroll down the hallway, our arms still linked. Glancing at him, I can't help but inwardly gloat at the lazy smile on his face.

He's relaxed—finally.

.

.

.

.

.

On our second day together I am in disarray while lingering in the entryway. Edward hovers by my side, his hand clasped around mine in reassurance.

He is also restraining me.

"I'm sorry," I whisper lowly, my eyes firmly closed. Sunlight leaks in through the windows and decorates our skin.

The front door seems too big, too thick.

"They'll be gone soon," he promises. "They're just passing through."

We had been enjoying our afternoon sprawled out in the living room listening to an audiobook when a vicious pang of bloodlust had entrapped me in its suffocating embrace. The scent of sweat and skin burned in my throat and without thinking I had scurried to my feet and had rushed to the door.

A horrifying snarl had rumbled in my chest when Edward had grasped my hand and yanked me back.

From what I can gather, between five and eight young human boys are running several miles away through the woods. There are no popular hiking spots or maintained trails in the area, but humans can be quite curious—and stupid—about unventured land.

"They're going for a light jog," Edward assures, pressing a featherly light kiss against my temple, momentarily breaking me from my trance. "They're most likely high schoolers or college-aged."

I tremble furiously, my throat screaming to release it of the agonizing ache spreading through me. "It's the sweat… I don't get it... Makes them smell… good."

 _Juicy_.

It makes them fresh and moist, like a hot loaf of bread or a ripe peach—

"Think of them as people," he begs while rubbing circles on my back with his palm. "They're _not_ food. They're living beings with souls, families, loved ones, pets."

"Let me go," I plead, my voice cracking from the pressure.

"No."

"It hurts," I whine, massaging my throat and my neck. "It… _aches_."

"It will pass."

"When?" I demand, but even then the scent begins to fade. I cling to the aroma, my eyes scanning the cloudy haze that peppers the air as if a barely visible energy tethers me to my prey. My hands quiver; I grind my teeth noisily, nostrils flared.

After several minutes spent in tepid silence, my heightened sense of smell and hearing begin to dwindle back into hibernation. Edward's fingers remain firmly coiled around my wrist. If I was human, the bones in my hand would have surely broken and crumbled by now.

"You did great," he comments soothingly, utilizing his free hand to caress my hair.

My tightened jaw twitches. "Don't lie to me. Please."

"I'm not," he says earnestly, shrugging his shoulders once. "You didn't react too aggressively when I grabbed you and you didn't fight me. I've seen worse newborn behavior in _Emmett_ , for Christ's sake."

"I can't imagine anybody restraining him."

"Oh, we failed spectacularly."

"I could practically _see_ their scent," I murmur, turning on my heel to stare at Edward with wounded eyes. "It was like a ribbon tying me to them."

He gently cups my face in his hands and brushes his lips across my forehead. "It was tempting, yes. But you resisted."

"I didn't take your advice," I say, my throat stinging. "I didn't think of them _at_ _all_. I could only focus on their smell and what it was doing to me."

"And yet you never attempted to release yourself from me," he argues, looping his arm around my shoulders and sweeping me into a tender embrace. A smile tugs at my lips and sensations of pleasure ripple through my body. "You waited it out."

I chuckle lightly. "That makes me sound like an addict in detox."

"It's not particularly different," he says, smiling impishly.

"My name's Bella Swan and I'm a blood addict," I giggle.

"I'm glad you can find humor in the situation."

.

.

.

.

.

Sunlight hums against my skin, breathing warmth into me. Greedily I soak it up like a sponge, my eyes closed as I lazily lounge against an outdoor chaise in Esme's elaborate garden. My skin refracts like thousands of diamonds.

"You're like a house cat," Edward teases, sinking down beside me. I scoot to the side, allowing him room. "You love the sun."

"It feels good." I curl my arm around his waist and press against him. He hooks his arm around my body while resting his arm hand behind his head. Joy blossoms in my chest.

Insects buzz serenely and the smell of marigold and lavender perfumes the air. I can hear the rapid of thumping of a hummingbird's wings.

"Esme purposefully planted specific flowers to attract bees," Edward says, his thoughts seemingly synchronizing with my own. "She wants to save them from extinction."

"That's so sweet."

"Her quirks are charming," he agrees. I peek at him through the slant of sunlight. His honey-gold eyes are rich and twinkling, and his jawline is slack; relaxed.

 _Good God, he is handsome._

"How'd you stand to be around me when I was human?" Even two days later my mind wanders to the enriching scent of human blood that had wrapped its aura around me. Edward had explained their running—the pounding hearts and flushed skin—had triggered my predatory instincts; like when you turn your back to a big cat they will attack. Perhaps if they had been on a leisurely stroll I may have reacted in a less violent manner.

"I held my breath. I thought about the empty shell I would become if you died."

"But you never thought of just turning me into a vampire?" I press, blinking in confusion.

"You know how I feel about hell and damnation."

"But I would've died eventually." I prop myself up, gazing down at him curiously. "Old age, remember?"

"I…" His eyebrows pull together and his butterscotch-gold eyes melt. "I had plans."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Um. _What_?"

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," I argue, spearing him with a venomous glare. "That's not even possible."

He turns his head away and closes his eyes as if the weight of my gaze has become too much. "It is when it involves another of our kind," he murmurs.

"That's sick." I blanch. "Who would eve do that? Your family…. No, they would never!'

"Of course not," he exclaims, opening his eyes and gawking at me. "I would've pled my case to the Volturi."

"Them?" I still harbor vague knowledge of the Volturi, but I can't imagine they'd be inclined to confront a subject as absurd as a suicidal, grief-stricken vampire. "Would they even agree?"

"Probably not," he answers doubtfully. "But I could have supplied them with a compelling reason."

"And what would that be?" I press, irritated.

"I could've broken a law—exposed myself to humans. I could've made a scene right outside their doorstep. I'm certain they would've responded then."

"That's _twisted_ ," I whisper, a violent iciness slicing my heart into pieces. "Humans move on when their loved ones die," I point out.

"Humans are also pressed for time."

"Doesn't that seem silly though? It means they're more emotionally intelligent than we are, don't you think?"

Edward humors me with a lopsided smile before saying, "They're captive to time. Naturally they must learn how to handle death. And their brains are not like ours—they forget. They heal."

"We're frozen," I sigh. " _Broken_ , really."

"Broken together," he corrects, tugging me down and circling his arms around my body.

I bite my lower lip in anticipation as a tremble of pleasure echoes across my body. Indecision lingers in the back of my mind for half of a second before I settle on chasing after the fire spreading through me. Against my better judgement I lift my chin, staring evenly at Edward's serene face for a moment, and then plant a bruising kiss on his mouth.

"Bella," he murmurs, although his tone is not one of warning as I had thought it would be. Instead it's welcoming and loving.

Awkward and inexperienced, I sweep my tongue through his parted lips and across his own tongue. My fingers nestle in his hair and I feel his fingers, nimble and skillful, dip into my thigh. The marble skin miraculously curves against his touch. The space between my thighs thrums and radiates, and a throaty moan escapes my mouth.

 _It feels too good—need to stop—can't stop—_

Abruptly Edward recoils, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open.

My stomach drops. "I'm sorry!"

"No, it's… Did you just speak to me aloud a second ago?"

I untangle myself from him and pull back. "No."

"But I _heard_ you," he protests.

"I didn't say anything."

"You said…" He breathes in heavily and whispers, "You said it felt 'too good.'"

"No, I was just thinking—oh no!" I cup my hands over my mouth and blink rapidly at him. "I don't want you to read my mind—ever," I cry, my shoulders shaking.

He shakes his head at me and extends his hand; his fingers run down my arm, and it feels as if a trail of flames has ignited against my skin. "You let me in," he says in astonishment, his eyes bright and happy. "I could feel your mind."

"It was an accident," I say, my hands falling to my sides. I slide off the chaise and begin to take steady steps away from Edward; he rises to his feet and trails slowly after me, his expression still one of bewilderment and joy.

"You let your guard down and your shield went down with it."

I scowl at him in return. "I won't let it happen again."

"Would it be so bad?" He curls an eyebrow. "To let me in?"

" _Yes_ ," I hiss.

"I don't want to know any of your secrets," he offers, his head tilted to the side. His hair is tousled—more than normal, in fact. Did I do that? "I liked hearing your voice."

"Well, I don't want you inside of me like that," I counter, realizing too late how my words sound when spoken out in the open. Shellshocked, I clamp my hands over my mouth again and beg my legs not to collapse from the mighty weight of my humiliation.

A familiar scent fast approaches and Edward and I both turn rapidly—Edward is far more vexed than I am. Further out I can hear a car pedaling down the lengthy driveway.

"Hello there," Alice beams, strutting through the garden with a knowing smile on her elfin face.

"Alice," I whisper, dropping my arms at my sides and hurrying to her side. She grins and embraces me affectionately.

"It's only been six days," she teases.

"We were promised seven," Edward grumbles from behind me.

Alice's expression sobers. "I know. But something has happened. Have you been paying attention to the news?"

"We've been busy."

"Not from what I saw," she snickers.

I gaze severely at her. " _Alice_ ," I whine.

"The news report," Edward interrupts, sidestepping me and clamping a steady hand on Alice's shoulder. "You think it's Victoria?"

"Victoria?" I spring forward, grasping Alice's upper arm. "Did you see her?"

"It's in the news," she states, flicking both of our hands away. "There's a serial killer in Seattle."

"Oh." The spike of adrenaline that had stabbed my chest immediately cools. "Humans murder each other all of the time. Why do you think it's Victoria?"

"We went to Seattle."

Edward scowls at Alice. "I'm seeing your thoughts more clearly now, Alice. You were being reckless," he scolds.

"When we saw what was happened on the news we were suspicious," she says, her tone sour. "We didn't want to cause you any panic though in case it turned out to be of human origin."

"What'd you find in Seattle?" I interject impatiently.

"We found her scent. It was a weak trail and she's terribly good at the art of disappearing, but even more worrisome is the multiple scents we found."

"More than one vampire?"

"Are you serious, Alice?" Edward pinches the bridge of his nose.

"So it's like what we thought before?" Dejected, I let my shoulders fall. "She's creating newborns."

She sighs. "It seems that way. Humans have been disappearing from the Seattle region—humans with athletic backgrounds, humans with strong educations. She's targeting smart, strong young men and women."

"Why haven't the Volturi intervened?" Edward's voice is sharp and furious. "Humans have noticed what's happening. They're reporting on it for God's sake."

Jasper appears then, moving around a patch of flowers and positioning himself beside his wife. Somehow he's even more agitated than Edward. "The Volturi had been there. They were monitoring the situation, from what we can tell."

"They may have even approached her," Alice explains, running her hand up and down Jasper's arm. "Six humans have _officially_ gone missing. The 'killings' stopped two months ago, however. It had happened in such rapid succession that the police had become worried."

"They're still reporting it on it though," I say. "Right?"

"It's been brought to attention again simply because they have no leads. But it's obvious they may be forced to drop the case soon, or at least put it on the backburner. Their attentions have deviated to a recent mass shooting. The human attention span is a fickle thing."

"Alice, you said six humans have _officially_ gone missing? Do you think there are more?" Edward demands.

"We lingered near the local homeless encampments," Alice answers somberly, "and from what we've gathered they are scared. Their friends have gone missing."

"But naturally the Seattle media doesn't care," Jasper states plainly.

I quiver at his words. "Why would the Volturi help her?"

"They wouldn't be helping Victoria, per se," Jasper says, his eyes ripe with sympathy as his eyes graze my own terrified ones. "They're the court—she was likely dealt a warning. Building her own territory isn't behavior they would frown on. As long as she keeps it contained, of course."

"Do you think we could explain what happening?" Edward hugs my waist, pulling me closer. "Carlisle is a friend of Aro, after all."

Alice shakes her head. "I've already spoken to Carlisle. He's fond of his time in Volterra, but he doesn't have faith in Aro." She shares a strong look with Edward and he scoffs.

" _What_?" I urge.

"Aro is the head of the Volturi alongside Caius and Marcus. He _collects_ gifted vampires, for lack of a better term. He may try to break our family if it means acquiring our talents."

The sun is starting to dip below the horizon and the trees and landscape begin to quiet. Everything Jasper and Alice have been saying whirls around in my head. Helplessness digs its heels into my soul. My senses prickle; I can hear slumbering nocturnal creatures shaking their sleepiness off as the night descends.

After a silent moment passes between the four of us, I ask, "So we're on our own?"

"Victoria has no experience in breeding an army," Jasper says, patting my shoulder. "She's been messy. She wouldn't dare travel great distances with her newborns either."

"... So we're hiding?"

A growl vibrates in Edward's chest. " _No_."

"In all likelihood her endeavor will be her downfall," Alice says flippantly.

"We can't approach her," Jasper explains, throwing Edward a critical look. "Newborns are difficult and _dangerous_. If we dare take her down, we have to figure out how many newborns she has created and where she's settled. And we will need help."

"I've been seeing flashes in my visions," Alice offers. "I don't see Victoria, but I can the interior of a warehouse."

"Invaluable information," Edward drawls in a surly tone.

" _Edward_ ," Jasper and I warn simultaneously although it's Alice who speaks first, saying, "I know you're frightened for Bella's safety, brother, but you know my visions can't always protect or aid us." She pointedly gestures at me.

I chew on my bottom lip and glance warily at Edward. His irises have hardened and his hands are locked into fists.

Breathing in deeply, I summon a memory: The fear, rage, and longing that had rooted itself into my heart when I reunited with Edward. Even then I was aware he wasn't a beast nor a monster. That caricature had been a wicked fairytale woven by Victoria to ensnare me in her web. The wounds scarring my soul have not entirely healed, but the love I harbor for Edward is full of hope—for a strong future, for a path forged by our bond to one another, for safety and security.

While I pierce through the ice armoring Edward's eyes, a revelation sends a wave of shock resounding through my body.

 _You won't leave me_ , I think, the walls caging my heart tumbling into oblivion. _I trust you._

Edward freezes.

"What's wrong?" Jasper demands, irritated, while his gaze wanders from me to Edward and then to his wife.

"I, too, am puzzled," Alice says, hooking her arm around her husband's elbow.

"I've learned some new things about my gift," I joke while stifling a laugh under my breath.

"Is this is in any way connected to the strange expression on my dear brother's helpless face?" she surmises, smirking.

"Mhmm."

Jasper chuckles. "He's absolutely beside himself."

"It's an odd experience," Edward objects, recovering smoothly from his stoic stance. "I could get used to it."

The two men start to banter and I slip back into my mind. I chase after the elation that infects my mood and play with the memory of my passionate kiss with Edward.

Edward's devotion to me is a permanent affair as is my attachment to him.

He's not leaving.

He's here to stay.


End file.
